Where We Start Over
by melatonin927
Summary: Akechi manages to make it out of Shido's palace alive, but his continued existence raises questions about justice, emotions, and morality. Based on the ending to the original Persona 5 game, with some retelling of canon happenings.
1. Reunion

Ren walks toward the café, equal parts relieved and exhausted. The Phantom Thieves had just fulfilled their task of turning Shido's heart, an evil politician with a long history of injustice. Morgana is asleep in his tote bag and Ren isn't far off from passing out himself.

As he rounds the corner by the shop, Ren is shocked by the person he sees at the door. Goro Akechi is leaning against the wall, hunched over slightly in pain. He's grasping his left arm tightly. Akechi looks up at hearing the footsteps, his eyes sunken behind the mess of bangs. Small cuts are visible on his cheeks and chin.

"Akechi?" Ren asks. He hustles over to him, Morgana stirring in the bag as its shaken.

Ren inspects him for a second before unlocking the door to the shop. He has a million questions but dealing with the injuries is the priority. He puts an arm around Akechi and guides him inside. Akechi grimaces as they move.

"I thought you were dead."

The diner is only illuminated by the moon through the windows. Ren fumbles for the light switch at the bottom of the stairwell.

"Tch… I probably should be," he responds weakly.

By this time, Morgana is awake, popping his head out to inquire what's going on. His eyes go wide at seeing Akechi, eliciting the same reaction Ren had a few moments before.

They move slowly up the stairs to the attic. Akechi tries not to rely heavily on Ren for support but can't help being practically dragged. The journey to get to the café was grueling and stole the last of his strength. Despite their caution, each step draws out a small gasp from the injured boy.

Ren takes him over to the bed and helps him sit down at the edge. Then, he crouches in front of him, so that Akechi doesn't have to lift his head too much to speak. Morgana hops out of the bag that was placed on the bed and sits nearby.

"What happened?" Ren inquires. "The last thing we heard on the other side of the wall was the gunshot."

Akechi takes a breath, preparing the energy to speak. "Yes, we… certainly shot each other," he speaks between small grunts of pain, "My aim was better than his and I ran. The lesser ones chased me for a while. Managed to find… a place they couldn't get to. I've been hiding in the palace up until now. I couldn't make it to the entrance with all the guards on alert."

Morgana and Ren exchange looks as they listen.

"I assumed my only chance of escape was if you all managed to steal the treasure," a cough, "When the palace started crumbling on itself, I booked it to the exit and came straight here. I can't risk going to the hospital."

Ren nods. While they were busy sending the calling card and battling Shido, Akechi had been clinging to life nearby. "Are you bleeding?"

"I'm not sure." Akechi goes to unbutton his jacket but struggles bending the arm he's been gripping.

"Let me." Ren reaches for the coat and starts to undo the buttons. He helps Akechi shrug the jacket off so they can see the wounds better.

Ren's eyes widen at the damage. Large scrapes, bruises, and welts are evident on his arms and that's only what's visible. Ren wonders how many of the injuries they themselves had inflicted.

"Morgana, do know anything about wounds from the cognitive world?" Ren asks.

The cat is perched at the corner of the bed wagging his tail agitatedly, trying to think if he's ever dealt with someone in such a serious condition. "I can't say I've seen it this bad before. Sure, we feel and show the physical effects of being in the palace, but maybe we've just never been beat up this severely." Akechi smiles to himself underneath his hair at the comment. He thinks of all the failures leading him to this moment. To be in the worst condition they'd ever seen.

"None of our wounds have ever been this obvious," Morgana finishes.

Ren thinks for a moment. He touches a hand gently to Akechi's knee and speaks up to him. "I know someone who can help. I'll be right back," Ren says and takes off down the stairs.

Akechi would prefer not to be here. Not alone with Morgana. Not in Ren's room. Not in this café. Not receiving aid and certainly not receiving pity. It all reminds him of how incredibly useless he feels right now. But as he implied to Ren, and meant truthfully, he had nowhere else to turn.

Going to the hospital would get his name put on a record. He would be recognized. People would talk. There were several outcomes Akechi could think of and he wanted no part in any of them.

If Shido uses his name in the confession, he'd likely be arrested. If others in the crime network want him killed for knowing too much, he risks being offed. Even just the thought of his fans seeing him in this condition, or their reactions should his depravity come to light, was too much to take on. Since extending an offer of a truce, Ren was the only person that Akechi might be able to rely on.

It must have been ten minutes before the door to the shop swings open again. Akechi, with his head hung low, was on the verge of sleep. Morgana had said some positive nothings to him about how "everything would be okay." He had ignored it, spending the time instead drifting in and out of consciousness.

The clicking of heels on the stairs gets Akechi to lift his head. Crossing the room toward him, with Ren in tail, is a beautiful, punk woman in a white lab coat.

"This is Akechi," Ren states. He grabs the chair from the desk and places it in front of Akechi for the doctor to sit in. She sits down and leans over her knees in his direction.

"Hello, Akechi. I'm Dr. Takemi. I have a clinic right around the corner."

"Nice to meet you."

"He told me that you suffered many injuries in the palace. I don't quite understand how it all works, but you Phantom Thieves sure do get yourselves in trouble a lot."

_I'm not a Phantom Thief. _Takemi continues to talk about how she is going to examine him for injuries. During this, Akechi shoots Ren a look of confusion. Ren meets his gaze with a blank face. After a couple seconds, Ren shifts his focus to the wall perpendicular the bed.

"Could you please give us some privacy, Ren?" Takemi asks.

Ren nods. "I'm gonna' run down the street, I'll be back." He waves Morgana to follow him. Takemi turns to focus on her patient.

* * *

Morgana and Ren arrive at Sojiro's house several minutes later. They ring the doorbell. Futaba answers fully dressed in pajamas. She's wiping sleep from her eye.

"Sojiro isn't home and I'm trying to rest. How are you guys not crashed right now?"

They enter the house, bypassing her and heading to her room. "Futaba, can you turn on the microphone in the diner?" Morgana requests.

She follows them. "Umm yeah, but what's going on guys?"

They push open the door to her room and Futaba crosses to her computer. The microphone activates. There's the faint murmuring of Takemi. Ren didn't think that Akechi was attempting anything sinister, but he didn't feel right leaving Takemi alone. At least with the microphone on he can hear if anything is out of the ordinary. No one knows the mic is there outside of their inner circle.

"Akechi is alive and he's in the café right now," Morgana explains.

"What?!"

"He was right outside the door when we showed up. He's got all kinds of injuries, so Ren got Takemi to take a look."

Futaba inquires for further details and Morgana repeats what Akechi had told them. She crouches in the chair, thinking.

"So, what are you gonna' do, Ren?" She asks, looking somewhat uneasy.

"That's what I wanted to consult you about," Ren replies.

"You want my opinion?"

"Akechi has hurt you the most personally, Futaba, outside Haru. I don't want to keep someone around that's going to make you uncomfortable."

Futaba smiles at his concern. "Look, I'm not the guy's biggest fan by any means. I know he was the one that pulled the trigger on my mom, but he wasn't the one that gave the order," she twirls a strand of hair in her fingers, "And while I'm furious, I meant what I said in the palace to him. It doesn't matter where you start over as long as you commit to starting over."

Morgana's eyes sparkle. "How profound, Futaba." She gives him a devilish grin and pulls the cat into her lap despite his protests.

"It's ultimately up to you, leader. But if you came here for my blessing then you have it. I trust your decisions, even if the guy has been a total scumbag."

Ren ruffles a hand through his hair. _The level of trust they have in me…_ So many of the decisions made thus far have been so black and white to him. Changing the hearts of adults who used their authority to knowingly abuse others. Helping Futaba out of her psychosis. Akechi is an entire curveball by comparison.

Ren can't get the image out of his mind of a neglected child whose life was set up to be exploited. But then again, were any of these adults they had changed the hearts of once children who had been disregarded? If Akechi had been left unchecked, would it have ended with Shido or continued with something else?

His thoughts circle back around. Isn't the point of the Phantom Thieves to help people at all points in life? Does giving up on someone in need because of their crimes go against the message? Does everybody deserve do-overs or is it really case by case? He's getting a headache.

Persona users can't have palaces. There's no easy way to go in and determine if Akechi is trustworthy. There are too many speculations at play. Ren decides to see it through for now if only to get answers.

"Thank you for your trust. Do you think you could keep Morgana here for a little while?"

"Excuse me?!" Morgana directs at Ren. "I can't leave you alone with that psychopath."

"Out of all of us he seems to confide in me the most. The less pressure he's under, hopefully the more I can understand what he's thinking."

The cat grunts, "You have a point."

* * *

"Alright, this is going to have to come off too, if you don't mind," Takemi says to Akechi. She helps him remove all but his undergarments and lays the blanket over his lap. She asks him specific questions about what he feels and what causes the pain.

The basics go first, checking vitals. Temperature. Not running a fever.

"How do you know Ren?" It's small talk, but he's curious to know how others view him. Surely, Ren can't be as flawless as he lets on.

She smiles, now checking his blood pressure. "He wanders into my clinic one day inquiring about medicine. I couldn't figure out what his motive was. Some teenage kid into experimental drugs or something. He told me he wasn't feeling well, but he seemed fine. I offered him something basic if he agreed to help me out with testing a new medication. To my surprise he agreed."

"That's gutsy."

"Hmm hm yes. He took the first dose and fell unconscious right away. Merely a side effect. I wouldn't have given something truly dangerous. But that's essentially how our relationship formed. He was my guinea pig and I gave him meds in exchange."

Akechi ponders the integrity of this relationship. It didn't sound incredibly lawful. Takemi checks his pulse then inspects his injured arm.

"But the real part of the story is how he saved my career," Takemi says. Akechi perks up.

"The whole reason I opened the clinic is because I was accused of a medical error. There was a little girl who needed experimental treatments to help cure her condition. Another doctor in the hospital treated her with something I hadn't approved of. She ended up dying and I was labeled at fault."

"Oh my…"

She examines the rest of his body. She finds bruises all over, but they're especially concentrated on his torso

"That doctor came into my clinic one day when Ren was there. He threatened me for continuing to practice medicine and intended to further damage my reputation if I didn't stop. I felt so defeated, I was going to close up shop for good. What was I doing as a doctor if I couldn't save anyone?

"Then Ren shows up one day and everything was miraculously resolved. The little girl hadn't actually died. She had merely switched hospitals. The doctor was jealous and had covered it up to ruin me. He confessed to the public about his actions. My reputation had been cleared and my treatments had helped her all along. It was bizarre. That's when I understood who Ren was and why he had been trying to get medicine from me in the first place."

Takemi sits back in her chair, satisfied with the exam. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to talk so much."

"Oh, no, I was the one who asked. Ren is truly admirable," he manages a smile.

"He is."

Akechi's stomach sinks. He wishes he could attribute it to any of the other numerous agonies in his body, but he knows this one to be guilt. Another person, another instance of Ren being selfless and loved for it. Further evidence condemning him for his mistakes. Ren is the contradiction in human form to all of them. Akechi wants it to be anyone else whose doorstep he landed on.

"I'm very surprised by the condition of your body, it's—"

Ren appears at the top of the stairs. Akechi hadn't even noticed him come in. Morgana isn't with him.

"Oh, you're back. I was just about to explain to Akechi what I thought. Do you have a shirt and shorts he could wear or something? He should avoid anything tight fitting."

Ren silently moves to the shelves where he keeps all his clothes. He pulls out a gray t-shirt and gym shorts then hands them off to Akechi. Akechi feels a little embarrassed being half naked in front of him. He feels even more embarrassed wearing his clothing but isn't in the position to object.

"Your wounds are very interesting. You described a much higher level of pain and discomfort than is evident here. And even just looking at it, I was concerned you would have some internal bleeding. But these are all very shallow cuts, bruises, discolorations… As for your arm, I think you have a mild elbow sprain. Although, you are incredibly dehydrated."

"So, he's okay?" Ren asks.

"Yes, I believe so. These are all issues that should resolve themselves. Of course, no strenuous activity. Limit the usage of your arm, use ice, prop it up. I've already bandaged all the cuts so keep up with changing those until the wounds heal. And here is some medicine for the pain." She reaches down into her bag and produces a pill bottle. She places it in Akechi's hands.

"If anything changes, I'm nearby."

"Thank you so much," Akechi bows his head. Ren reciprocates his statement.

"Of course," she stands up and moves the chair back to its original position, "I'm going to go finish closing since I got dragged away from it. Get some rest, you two." Takemi waves, heading down the stairs and exiting the shop. The bell on the door rings and then everything is silent.

Ren goes back over to the shelves, fiddling with the folded sheets on them. He places some on the couch, along with a couple pillows.

"Why did you tell her I was a Phantom Thief?" Akechi breaks the silence.

"I didn't want her to know who you were," Ren says as he chucks a pillow into Akechi's arms. He manages to catch it but is frazzled by the act.

"Elevate your arm. You can take the bed." He's spreading the sheets over the couch.

Akechi opens his mouth to protest but is cut off by Ren saying, "Let me get you some water so you can take the pills," before hopping off down the stairs. He places the pillow to the side, utterly confused. He's feeling weird and uncomfortable by Ren's intent to… take care of him?

Ren returns with the water, handing it off. He finalizes the makeshift bed with a blanket and turns out the light. Akechi watches him do all of this with a furrowed brow. _He really means to let me stay here. _

He had fully planned to hobble back to his own home out of pride, regardless of how dreadful it would be. Just seeking this place out for medical treatment was more than he deserved and more attention from Ren than he wanted. But at this point, it would be more effort to make a scene than to just go to sleep. Ren for whatever reason didn't mind and Akechi really had been struggling to stay awake.

"Goodnight," Ren mutters from the couch.

Akechi grimaces to himself as he goes to lie down on his back. His head hurts, he feels sick all over. He pulls the blanket over him, hoping the pain meds kick in while he's asleep. As soon as his head hits the pillow, he's out.


	2. Wishful Thinking

"This is the most ridiculous thing you've ever asked of me."

Akechi gradually opens his eyes. The world is hazy and too bright. He blinks several times trying to adjust. His eyelids are so heavy. There are noises he can't identify that buzz in his ears.

"I know that it's complicated."

"Complicated?!"

He's on his back still, the same position he fell asleep in. He tries to stretch and winces in pain. That wakes him up a little. He rolls his head to the left on the pillow. _Oh right. _Ren's room.

Akechi had seen it once before when he had posed alongside the Phantom Thieves. At the time, he had hated it. A worn down, unfinished attic, full of people he would decimate. It represented competition. Akechi had believed he was better than this place and its people. What flawed logic that turned out to be.

From this angle, from this situation, he thinks it has its own charm. It's almost like seeing it again for the first time. He never appreciated before how Ren had tried to make it feel like a home. Every one of his friends viewed it as a sanctuary.

There are decorations everywhere. Plants, shelves lined with collectibles, a t-shirt hanging from the desk, an array of claw machine stuffed animals. Akechi even thinks he sees a chocolate fountain by the railing. It's a quirky arrangement of items but speaks to all the experiences Ren has had that Akechi could only dream of. He finds himself longing to know what it's like to live for the little things.

"He killed Wakaba and attempted your life. How could you want someone like that anywhere near us?"

The noises come in clearer now. They're voices. It's Sojiro and Ren arguing downstairs. Akechi realizes they are talking about him.

"I already spoke to Futaba about it."

"Are you being dense on purpose?"

"You let me stay with you when you were convinced that I was a criminal. You wanted to give me a second chance."

"There's a huge difference between assault and mass murder, Ren."

Akechi has his arms spread out beside him. He's blankly staring at the ceiling, absorbing all the words. He deserves to hear it. It's good practice.

"But you know Shido. You know what kind of influence he had. He took advantage of people and manipulated them to his will. He let his own child be his hitman."

"Even if that's the case, it doesn't excuse it."

Akechi agrees with Sojiro, it doesn't. His actions were driven by revenge. Coddled and nurtured by Shido, but not entirely his doing. He wishes Ren would stop trying to defend him. His stomach aches at every new sentence.

But Akechi considers how hearing this conversation is just a taste. These wounds are minor in comparison to when all of Tokyo finds out just what he's done. The articles, the discussions, and the looks. It would all be amplified immeasurably.

Before he had achieved celebrity status, Akechi was a nobody. Not liked, not entirely disliked, just there. But now he had grown so much in the public eye that when they uncover it, he would descend lower than ever before. To plunge down into the deepest recesses of repugnance.

"He was just a child when it started."

"He's a child with a body count."

"I know that!" There's the abrupt sound of a chair being shoved backwards on the floor.

"I was on the other side of the gun. I understand the gravity of the situation, but I am begging you to trust me. It's different now. I owe you so much, I would not steer you wrong."

The conceit and irritability Akechi had felt previously morphs into sadness. Ren is fighting tooth and nail to defend him. He doesn't understand why. He can't comprehend Ren at all. In a world that beats everyone down Ren never stops being generous.

"Fine, Ren. Just harbor every fugitive in Japan," Sojiro grumbles, "I'm going to get cigarettes." The front door bangs shut.

He can hear Ren sigh and readjust the chair downstairs. Ren is taking the heat for what he's done. In a very bleak way, Akechi finds it amusing and all too perfect that he is a burden to his only advocate.

* * *

Akechi had fallen back asleep soon after the discussion in the diner ended. It was a somewhat restless sleep. While he never fully regained consciousness, there were bouts of foggy moments where he stirred at a sound or a sensation. He thinks during one of them he remembers the feeling of a hand on his forehead but could've been imagining that. He finally fully opens his eyes at the clink of dishes on a surface.

"How are you feeling?" Ren asks as he arranges utensils on the desk.

Akechi pulls himself up into a sitting position. "Sore."

"You've been asleep for a whole day."

"What?"

Ren steps over to the bed and flashes the date on his phone. Akechi is shocked. He hadn't even registered that it was dark outside again. He glances at the window then places a hand under his chin in thought, feeling more assured in his decision to have not gone to a hospital. That would have been an entire 24 hours he was out cold. Anything could have happened to him during that time.

While Akechi is processing, Ren pulls out a small box full of gauze and dressings. He sets it on the bed and kneels. "We should probably change your bandages," he says as he reaches for Akechi's arm.

At feeling a touch, Akechi snaps out of his thought. He instinctively jerks his arm away from the other. "I can do it," he states as he tries to hide the fact that moving that arm hurt tremendously. Ren stops mid-air and raises his hands beside his head in annoyance. He goes to sit on the couch.

Akechi starts replacing all the many bandages on his body. The adhesive on them is bothersome to remove with the limited ability of his limbs. He peels them off one at a time, discarding them in the trash can and putting a new one on. There isn't a remarkable amount of blood, but there is some.

As he is doing this, Akechi feels the room gets heavier by the second. The corner of his mouth twitches like he should apologize for reacting rudely but can't bring up the words to do it. He continues bandaging in silence.

Ren has his leg crossed over the other, looking very casual as he does something on his phone. He is typing away to the group chat, keeping the rest of the Phantom Thieves updated on the situation. He glances up from behind the phone to see that Akechi has finished, now just idly sitting on the bed. He gestures to the food on the desk. "This is for you by the way."

"Oh."

Akechi slides off the bed carefully. When he steps down, he notices a futon by his feet. The bedding has been moved from the couch to here. Akechi shakes his head a little to himself. His brain is moving awfully slow today.

"Over the couch already?" Akechi goes to sit at the desk, immediately lamenting that lame effort to fill the space.

Ren lifts his eyes from the phone for a moment, then grasps what the question is about. "It's not that comfortable on the long term." _He still intends to let me stay longer._

On the desk sits water and warm food. It's arranged neatly. Akechi awkwardly pokes at it with the fork. Ren has already done more for him in two days than Akechi has done for him the entire time they've known each other. He had not earned this level of kindness in any way.

"Has Shido confessed yet?" he asks faintly.

"Not yet," Ren answers, "Eat something. I want to talk to you after." He places his hands on his knees as he stands up from the couch and goes downstairs.

* * *

Akechi finishes eating. He slowly makes his way downstairs with the dishes. It's nighttime, so the café is empty. Ren is in the middle of washing other plates and takes the ones from Akechi. He gestures for him to sit at the counter. Akechi climbs onto the bar stool and sits quietly, looking around while Ren cleans. When he's done, he hangs the apron up and goes to lean on the back counter opposite Akechi.

"…Why are you helping me?"

"Would you rather I have left you on the street?"

Akechi makes eye contact. "I've been nothing but deceptive and cruel to you."

"When you see someone in need, you help them. I can deal with consequences later," he says and then looks down to the side.

"What are the consequences?"

"I don't know yet."

"As soon as Shido confesses they'll arrest me."

"He might protect your name. He did manipulate his own son, after all."

_His own son… _Akechi hangs on the words. To think that he was dragged into this by the circumstances of his birth. No, not just that. It was the suicide and the foster care and the complete lack of decency from his kin. The world had not been gentle or forgiving to him and so he chose to take that resentment into his own hands.

Despite the situation, Akechi knows he cannot escape suffering. He ponders the implication of Ren's words, but disregards it. He knows that all of his torment starts and ends and continues with Shido. His fate has already been sealed. Akechi was never anything more than a disgrace and a plaything. Even once he's behind bars, Shido will still have power over him.

Akechi zones out on the opposite end of the bar. Not so long ago, he would sit there. Initially for the chance to ambush Ren, gather any information, and make himself appear trustworthy. Then, he gradually started to look forward to the comfort of Sojiro's coffee and the chance to exchange a few words with Ren.

However, that was inappropriate. Akechi was not the type of person allowed to enjoy pleasantries. He had forsaken his humanity to destroy his father, stooping to his level if only to ruin him. Someone like that wasn't permitted an amiable life.

But, oh, how nice would it have been to exist on that side of the bar. To have always existed on that side and to never have to leave. The side where people flow in and out with the breeze. Where they greet him and have discussions and he smiles genuinely. A motion to feel a part of. A place to belong. He feels his eyes flutter.

"Akechi? Are you alright?"

His vision starts to swim black. Ren watches him collapse left and down below the bar with a thud. Ren rounds the corner. Thankfully, Akechi landed on another stool and didn't fall to the floor.

Ren shakes the boy's body gently. He stirs a little, murmuring something unintelligible. He's disoriented, but it's enough for Ren to get him out of the chair and back upstairs to the bed.


	3. Confession

_A guard lies lifeless on the ground. The blood pools around his body on the tile, saturating the clothing it encounters as it seeps outwards. Ren looks on in blatant shock._

_ "You know, I've never killed someone in person before."_

_ The hand Akechi holds the gun with shakes. He tries to conceal it by straightening his glove, but it doesn't stop. He places the other hand over it and lowers the weapon to his side._

_ "Have you figured it out yet?" Akechi mocks. He steps closer to the table. Ren has never looked so afraid. He takes note of the empty syringes on the floor and the marks all over Ren's face. They tortured him, how repulsive._

_He waits for Ren to say something clever and try to talk him down from this consummation, perhaps the only person that could, but his expectations are met with silence, perceived encouragement. It's better to just get it over with than to drown in the "what ifs." Akechi extends the gun in front of him once again._

_ "I regret that you had to get in my way." His finger squeezes the trigger. Such an effortless motion for a permanent outcome. _

_The bullet goes right through his forehead, disturbing his wavy hair. Blood gushes down over his open eyes and drips from his chin. Akechi makes sure to watch the whole time as Ren's corpse loses to gravity. It plummets toward the metal table, his head landing with a guttural splat. _

_The room is rich with iron. Akechi has to look away for a moment to prevent vomiting. He takes a deep breath and reaffirms himself that the end goal is in sight. He slips the gun under Ren's grip, so much red already staining the table… So much on his hands…_

* * *

Akechi shivers into consciousness. He's facing the wall, shaking all over, his heart beating rapidly. Dread washes over him.

He quickly props himself up on one arm to look at the room before him. The moon is bright tonight and casts a deep, blue glow across the space. The light reaches out and touches the tip of Ren's futon, where he is soundly asleep. At seeing Ren safe, Akechi deflates back onto the mattress.

He tries to calm himself, restating in his head that it was just a dream. Akechi takes a long breath, holds it, lets it out slowly, and repeats. He listens to the sound of his breathing and feels the material of the blanket, striving to ground himself in reality. It isn't the first time that dreams have disturbed his sleep.

After a few minutes of focus, he resolves to not risk further nightmares. Gingerly pulling the covers aside, he takes a spot by the window, sitting cross-legged and leaning on the sill. The street below is serene. He becomes lost in thought while picking out all the little details on the surrounding buildings.

While Akechi was hiding in the palace, he had a lot of downtime. Being pinned he couldn't do much else, so it was welcome time to reflect. A single encounter with the Phantom Thieves and the secrets it uncovered had sent his entire purpose down the drain. He came to understand Shido's true opinions of him, alongside his intended execution. Then there were the Phantom Thieves who, for whatever reason, still valued him as a potential ally, even going so far as to be sympathetic. Among the revelations remained the humiliating fact that he had been bested in mind and skill by more than one party. There was a lot to wrap his head around.

During those few days, an event he drifted back to often was the interrogation room. After the initial rage at being duped had subsided, he was surprised to find relief in its place. That clueless guard and Ren who had been spun up into the charade were both alive. Akechi maintained the ability to say he hadn't murdered anyone in person. As real as it may have felt, it wasn't.

Maybe to anyone else the distinction seemed pointless. Akechi had killed others through the metaverse, what made this different? How was the comparison in any way relieving?

To Akechi, the metaverse made everything feel slightly more fantastical. He would enter, eliminate the targeted shadow, and be finished. It came with its own set of reservations, but if he avoided the imagery of the mental shutdowns in the news, it created layers. He felt a little less involved than he truly was.

But in the interrogation room, _that _was messy. It was being front row to the crucial last seconds of someone's life. Watching them struggle and choke on their own blood, seeing the morbid way in which bodies become inanimate. Now that the false sense of righteousness had melted away, he concludes how sticky it felt. If those were the kinds of assassinations he was committing from the start, he's unsure if he would've been able to stomach it.

He had rationalized the event at the time. Akechi wanted so dearly to believe that he was heartless and mechanic, capable of doing anything to succeed, but the continued assault by regret on his mind made him think otherwise. The scene haunted him. Perhaps in part because it was a representation of the truth in his choices. It removed the layers; it was what he had been doing the whole time. As detached as he may have felt, he wasn't.

Breaking the trance, Akechi leans back from the window and lifts a hand before his eyes. He slowly twists it in the moonlight, bending and unbending fingers, watching how the shape morphs and casts shadows. He places it back down, sighing. In the silence there is nothing to do but think.

He decides to go to the bathroom to occupy some time. He spins around and shuffles to the corner of the bed. His phone that's been charging for however many hours now is resting on the shelf. At registering the motion of being picked up, the screen illuminates. _2:52 am. _

Akechi sets the phone back down as he stands up, but it doesn't totally make it on the ledge. It drops from the middle shelf and clatters on the floor, volume akin to gunshots for someone attempting to be quiet. He tenses and steals a look at Ren, hoping it didn't wake him.

"Mm, what are you doing?" Ren groans.

_Damn it. _"Sorry, I'm just going to the restroom," he whispers.

Ren grumbles, turning over on his side and wrapping the pillow around his head.

Downstairs in the bathroom, the lights on the wall are blinding. Akechi navigates the small room with squinted eyes. When he goes to wash his hands, the mirror is purposefully avoided.

Back in the hallway, a thought crosses his mind. All the way to the left, through the darkness, lies the entrance to the diner. Ren is off his guard (not that Akechi is being held prisoner) so it would be simple to exit this place and never return. Avoid confronting the conflict and guilt associated with the space.

He tries to motivate it. _People are only nice when they want to use you, there's no point in getting comfortable here. I would be better off alone. _He wonders what Ren could stand to gain from this situation. Gain his reliance then humiliate him? Some kind of elaborate revenge plan? None of the answers that come to mind seem very plausible given Ren's actions, but then again, Akechi has been fooled by him before. He toys with the motives in his head until they dwindle down and, with a sentiment he can't identify, Akechi ultimately feels more compelled toward the attic than the door.

Once at the top of the stairs Akechi blinks, confused. The futon is empty. Over a matter of seconds his eyes adjust as he searches the room. He locates Ren sitting on the couch, the legs of his sweatpants catching the moonlight and the rest of him concealed in shadow.

Akechi crosses the room. "I didn't mean to wake you." He sits on the long edge of the bed, with one leg hanging off the side.

"It's fine." Ren hadn't been able to sleep well either lately, too much was on the line with Shido's confession.

Ren had been in hiding for a while now and would remain so up until his name could be cleared. Existing inside his room for most of the day was making him restless and stir-crazy. Then there was the weight of the rehabilitation he didn't fully understand. Now that Akechi has been thrown into the mix, Ren feels like his head is running on fumes.

The blowout he had with Sojiro left him feeling particularly awkward. The truth was that Ren didn't 100 percent believe the arguments he was making on Akechi's behalf, but he needed to convince Sojiro to let him stay. In order to manually confirm Akechi's change of heart, Ren needed him under close surveillance. More than that, he needed to understand where Akechi's head was at.

Feeling blunter and more imprudent than earlier, Ren suggests, "Let's trade wounds."

"Pardon?"

"Do you know why I'm on probation?"

"I read your file. You assaulted someone."

Ren smiles sadly. "I didn't." Akechi cocks his head to the side.

"I was heading home one evening when I heard a woman yelling. As I got closer, I see there's a man grabbing her and trying to pull her somewhere she doesn't want to go. And I think that it wouldn't be right to not intervene. So, I step in.

"I try to get a handle on the situation, but the guy is drunk, loses his balance, hits his head on the ground. He's bleeding and screaming in my face. Tells me that he's a high-ranking official I shouldn't mess with. Threatens the woman to keep the situation quiet and charges me for assault.

"The trial goes through and that woman gets up on the stand and lies about what happened. I'm expelled, on probation, nobody believes me. I didn't even touch him. Shujin was the only school that would take me with my 'criminal record,' but my parents weren't so disheartened by the opportunity to ship me off."

"Your family didn't even believe you?" Akechi asks.

"No. I was always a good kid growing up, never got in trouble. Was just trying to do the right thing. You make one misstep, something you didn't even do wrong, and you get branded. My parents, my hometown, they all think I'm some kind of… loose cannon. It hurts their reputation to be related to a troublemaker like me."

Ren snorts. "You wanna' take a guess at who the high-ranking official was?"

Akechi's breath hitches. _Surely, he doesn't mean… _

"Shido himself," Ren declares quietly.

Akechi scowls, balling his hands into fists. "Somehow that doesn't surprise me. It's just like Shido to bulldoze over everyone who poses a threat."

That sinking feeling again, outlined with indignation. The whole time his image of Ren had been that of a delinquent. Akechi took it at face value, never questioning the reports of the police he knew himself to be often unjust. But Ren had overcome that appointed image, becoming a person worthy of his friends. Turns out, he wasn't malicious from the start. Everything Akechi had placed his bets on turned out to be one giant misconception. _Pray tell, what more do I not understand?_

The real kicker is how the only reason Ren is in Tokyo in the first place was because of Shido's actions. There was a disgusting irony in everything that occurred, eternally linked in the way they were traumatized. He feels the full force of Ren's drive, his actions as a Phantom Thief. Different choices, but the same goal to eradicate that sorry excuse for a man.

Noticing Akechi's distress, Ren tries to soothe it. "It'll be over soon. He's not going to hurt anyone else."

"I should've killed him."

Ren pauses and leans forward, resting his head on top of his hands. "Why?"

"I devised that elaborate, self-serving plot to thrust him into anguish. While he was being skyrocketed into power by me, I failed to comprehend the full scope of his damage. You're not even involved in the political world and look how he singlehandedly ruined your life. He would be better off dead." What was one well-deserved murder compared to all the many on his hands?

Akechi waits for Ren to give him a look of displeasure, but it doesn't come. His face is as calm as ever. "I want to understand how you got involved in all of this."

"You already know my story."

"The details. Why you kept going."

"You might not like the answers you find," Akechi warns.

Ren shrugs. "Don't have to."

"Very well," Akechi presses his lips together, "Where to begin." He uses the intermission in the conversation to pull his other leg back onto the bed, sitting in the same fashion as when he was at the window earlier.

"Well, you know what happened to my mother. Ostracized for having a child out of wedlock. She raised me the best that she could. I was a lonely child and she was probably my only genuine friend.

"I came home from school one day to find the police at our apartment. Ambulances, all the sirens and the lights. I was so confused and overwhelmed. They were asking me all sorts of questions. I didn't understand what was happening, I just wanted to go inside and see my mother, but they wouldn't let me go anywhere near the apartment.

"You can't even imagine what it's like, to be so small and impressionable, and have your only support gone in an instant. To come home from a regular day of school and find out your own mother committed suicide in the bathroom."

Akechi pauses for a moment to breathe and steady his emotions.

"Once they cleaned it up, they let me grab a few things. The apartment felt so hollow to walk through. It was like I had been transported to a different reality. The same home I had always known filled with strange personnel and an atmosphere that didn't belong.

"I got put into foster care. Sometimes in a group home, but usually bouncing between relatives. They didn't want me around, for reasons a child couldn't comprehend. Why even bother labeling it 'family' if all we do is treat each other with contempt? No one was ever kind to me in the way my mother was. I was a strain on their lives too.

"I simply wanted to be independent of all of it. Not to rely on the people who thought of me as a leech. It was around this time that I started to make sense of what my mother had told me about my father, Masayoshi Shido. She told me his name only so that I would never speak it.

"He was gaining traction in politics. I'd see him plastered all over the news, attending conferences and holding speeches. The people lauded him for his courage and compassion, but I knew how untrue it all was. A selfish prick who leaves people's lives to disintegrate, but he knows how to play into the public's heart. No one suspects a thing, and no one would believe someone like me making claims against him.

"I was in a very bad state of mind. I had no one to rely on or to tell me things were okay. Life was infinitely confusing and torturous, I hated my place in it. I was so jaded and full of rage at all the things I couldn't change. I wasn't sure whether to punish myself for how I had failed everyone or take it out on something else.

"Then one day, I'm walking in the subway and find myself in what we understand to be Mementos. I'm terrified of my surroundings, clutching my bag with nowhere to go but forward. I inevitably encounter a shadow, screaming as it knocks me to my feet. I imagine you understand what happens next. Something from very dark within me calls out to unleash all of the deep-seated emotion I'd been bottling for years. I was to utilize the twisted powers of Loki to take control of my life."

With every word, Akechi feels a little more exhausted. He's never told anybody all of this but feels like he should continue. There's something about Ren, maybe his demeanor or his careful way of speaking, that makes someone want to spill their guts out for him.

"This is where you decided on the revenge?" Ren asks.

"Yes. Began assuming the detective role. I spent a good deal of time testing out my powers in Mementos as well. By the time I had worked up the charisma to march into Shido's office, I was certain of my ability to be useful.

"I brought up how the power could be used to spy on people by talking to their shadows or the psychosis I was acquainted with. He asked me if it could be used to kill, so I found out."

They share a look at Akechi's hesitation to proceed. Ren gives him a nod of encouragement.

"The first person I ever killed, some official from another party, I made the mistake of letting them talk," Akechi swallows, "He begged for his life. Told me he had a family to look after. I apologized and told him that the task had to be carried out as it was entrusted to me. He tried to reason with me, saying things like I didn't have to be someone's lapdog. I was growing impatient with the weight of the decision. He then says, 'you need to think for yourself for once' and it made me so instantaneously angry. My whole revenge plan _was _me thinking for myself. I yelled, 'I am!' and pulled the trigger. The shadow dissolved into the ground. I immediately felt dizzy and fell to the floor, panting. Just sat there for a while, going over in my head if I had really ended someone's life.

"When I reported back to Shido's office the following day, he shared with me the 'good news.' The man had a mental shutdown on the street outside his workplace. Shido congratulated me, not only for making the discovery but for being a valuable asset. He looked forward to working with me in the future, promising benefits from our partnership. I realize now he was probably just testing me. Offering me praise and keeping me in his corner while he figured out my angle. Nevertheless, I went straight back to the place I was staying with very mixed feelings, crawled into my bed, and bawled my eyes out. It was the price I would pay for revenge and something I would learn to survive with."

Akechi rubs a hand on his neck, falling back into the memories, looking at them through a new lens. He can pinpoint every interaction that was wrong. The motives that drove him were the very ones that allowed him to be controlled. He thought he had a say, that he was being clever, but he was merely a pawn.

"If it made you upset, why didn't you stop?"

His head is starting to hurt, he reaches a hand up to it. "A few reasons. The first being that Shido is a powerful man. I was gaining popularity, we had exchanged ideas, and I had killed for him. I doubt he would have let me back out so easily. You've seen what happens to the people that cross him.

"The second reason is that I had nothing to return to. What was the point in going backwards to being miserable again?" His words start to carry more emotion. "For a while there I had thought that life had finally turned in my favor. Every other attempt made had resulted in more of the same. And then suddenly I had the public's support, a power I believed nobody else to hold, and the encouragement that it all was worthwhile. I had taken control of something and it was working. How was I supposed to believe that giving it all up was the right decision? I refused to sacrifice the power I had gained to go back to being nothing."

Akechi is breathing harder. "The third reason… is that I was good at it."

"You enjoyed it?" Ren questions.

"No." He closes his eyes as he says it and opens them again meeting Ren's gaze. "Don't misunderstand, there's no inherent joy in killing another human being, quite the opposite. But every time I induced a mental shutdown Shido was there to praise me. It was something only _I_ could do, and I started to take pride in that feeling. To achieve his ascension, he needed _me. _How clever I thought I was being. Shido and I were on the same level, but I had the upper hand and he was feeding into it all while making me so accomplished." Akechi feels pressure building behind his eyes. "But that wasn't the case at all.

"I heard it in the palace. He had suspected the whole time that I was his son and it wasn't even a second thought. As soon as he was elected, I was to be gotten rid of. That really the whole time, I was the one who was nothing but a puppet."

Akechi's mind is screaming at him to stop talking, but the words keep pouring out. He had conditioned himself for years to always be presentable. When the ache of an emotion would strike, he would shove it down and smile. Even if he was hideous on the inside the rest of the world would desire him for his congenial nature. After shaping himself into that form for so long, the mask was slipping.

"Shido saw that vulnerability and he took advantage of it, made me think I was special, or useful. It makes the truth all the more ugly," he chokes as several tears run down his cheeks, "Shido never valued me in any sense, I was just a tool to be used. And the public, as much as they claimed to adore me, was volatile, and turned on me as soon as they didn't like what I had to say. Oh, but the real nail in the coffin is that all of you Phantom Thieves took everything I had done, and you did it better and in the right way. So, in the end, I really accomplished absolutely nothing but ruining my life, more so than it was before. I was enduring all the hardship to take him down. I thought I was suffering for a reason. But it turns out I was just suffering for the sake of suffering."

He can't hold it in any longer and begins to full on sob into his hands. The weight of the emotions coming out painful in his chest, racking his breath.

"I'm so miserable," he whines through his hands, "All I've ever wanted was to be meaningful to someone."

Ren watches, his heart aching for the other. The instinct to comfort takes over, what Ren imagines he would want if the situation were reversed. He stands up to go to the edge of the bed and puts one knee on the mattress, moving to place his arms around Akechi's shoulders. Akechi doesn't even look as he grunts, shoving Ren away. Affection on a personal level, especially physical, was something he was very unfamiliar with.

Growing irritated with this response, Ren huffs and gets on the bed. "Akechi, come here," he says more sternly, hooking his arms under Akechi's shoulders and dragging him backwards on the mattress. He struggles a little but can't grip anything enough to stop the force of being pulled.

Ren moves them to the corner of the bed, against the wall. He props a pillow up and wraps an arm around Akechi, whose stun from those actions caused a momentary lapse in tears. Ren rubs his thumb over the same spot on Akechi's arm. The tears start coming out again.

"Let it out. You'll feel better if you do."

Akechi pulls his knees to his face. "I've been a fool this whole time. I'm abhorrent. I ruin everything I touch. You should've just left me on the street like you said." The tears wet the skin on his legs. The small space fills his head with pressure, suffocating, so he pulls it back up, sniffling.

He leans into Ren more, subconsciously wanting the comfort. The sobbing hits him hard again, his mind jumping from one pain point to another. The intensity so overwhelming there's nowhere for it to go but out.

"I should've just let my cognition kill me," he cries, "Fuck the stupid instinct to survive."

Ren opens his mouth to refute that and then closes it, changing his mind. He continues to rub his arm while he cries. Trying to make sound discussion while Akechi is in hysterics would be fruitless, it might even make him angry. Ren decides it's better to be quiet until he calms down.

Akechi sits up slightly, a hand ghosting in front of his nose. He's crying so hard the tears and the snot are covering the lower half of his face. Ren looks around, he doesn't have any tissues. He leans forward, whipping one of the bed sheets around until it comes loose and hands the corner to Akechi.

"Use this, I'll wash it later."

He hesitates, holding the sheet in his hand. Not the most conventional tissue, but he was given permission. Akechi reluctantly wipes his face off. He settles lower on the bed, his head situated in the crook of Ren's shoulder as he weeps. Ren holds him a little tighter.

* * *

An hour of crying and blubbering woeful statements passes. Akechi sank further into the bed, now resting his head on Ren's stomach, an arm wrapped around his waist. Ren is half asleep. His head is nodded into the corner of the wall, absentmindedly running a hand through Akechi's hair.

"I don't think I can cry anymore." Nothing else would come out. A sensation of complete numbness overtakes him. "I'm so sorry for everything. For what Shido did, for what I've done. I shouldn't have come asking for your help."

"I'm glad that you did," Ren mutters. He blinks trying to stay present.

"Why?"

What Ren really wants to tell Akechi is something he doesn't feel right sharing. That prior to discovering his intended betrayal, he viewed him as a friend. Even after, in Sae's palace and in the engine room, Ren struggled to stop viewing him as a friend. That if Akechi was going to end up asking for help on anyone's doorstep, Ren is happy it was his. But he won't say it. Though sidetracked by Akechi's breakdown ripping at his sympathy, there were still decisions to be made, and Ren is not in the position to invite him back so easily. He settles on saying something else instead.

"Because you're safe here."

Akechi has trouble dissecting what that means. Ren values his safety, he supposes that's something. He doesn't focus on it for long, instead melting into the feeling of Ren's fingers in his hair. He can't remember the last time someone had consoled him in this way. The warmth and the sensation are drawing him toward sleep, maybe a sleep free of nightmares.

They remain like this for a little while longer, Ren checking to make sure Akechi's mood has calmed, until eventually, Ren gets antsy sitting so still.

"I'm going to get up now," Ren whispers, "You should rest."

As soon as Ren slides away and off the bed, Akechi misses the feeling of his body being there. He pulls the blanket up around his shoulders as a replacement. He watches Ren sit at the desk and pull open the laptop, then fixates on the back of his head and how his shoulder bounces slightly when he moves the mouse. Akechi thinks he is starting to understand Ren's appeal to everyone.

* * *

Before dawn, Ren has to get the store ready for opening, at which point Sojiro will take over. He realizes Akechi doesn't have any personal items with him and explains that there are some extras in the bathroom he can use once he feels like getting up. Ren doesn't want him to neglect his hygiene. Akechi is slow to start, taking the morning one step at a time. Once downstairs, he makes quick work of locating an unused toothbrush, tearing off the plastic packaging.

Akechi brushes his teeth, bends over the sink to rinse out his mouth, and turns the water off as he comes back up. In the upward motion, he catches a glimpse in the mirror and does a regretful double-take. The reflection staring back at him is otherworldly.

His eyes are ridiculously red and swollen, making a stark contrast to the many white bandages dotting his face. His lips are cracked, hair disheveled, he raises his hands to his cheeks in sheer disbelief. He had seen his face in the media hundreds of times, always polished like had been intended, but this was such an ugly image.

Akechi presses his face into his hands. "What is happening to me?" he mumbles into them.

Sliding his hands down to the sides of his neck, he stares at the wall for a moment_. Inner self finally turning outward, that would be poetic_. He releases a mournful sigh and exits the bathroom.

There was one issue he might be able to immediately remedy. "Ren, do you have any lip balm?" he asks while rounding the corner.

The hasty rustling of bags catches him off guard. Akechi looks up to find Futaba at the end of the bar. They make eye contact very briefly.

"I, uhh, thank you for breakfast. I'll see you later!" she stammers and is out the door.

Ren looks at the entrance and back to Akechi. He hates to see Futaba uneasy. She was brave in her statements about the situation, but he wonders how she is handling it.

A twinge of resentment creeps up in Ren's chest. The part of him that bubbles with anger, that wants to shout "_You're right, why should I help you? Look at how you've hurt me and all the people I care about. We had a bond that _you_ chose to break!"_ Those thoughts are combatted by the softer side of him, the one that wants to understand. The side that yearns to reach out gently and say "_You are better than the things that you've done. We have to lookout for each other, be kind in a world that wants us to do anything but." _The lump in Ren's throat is the pondering of if _he _can forgive Akechi.

"We should go talk to her later," Ren suggests.

"We?"

A cheery voice on the television interrupts the plans, "Good morning, everyone. It is a beautiful day to head outside and vote in the election for Prime Minister. We'll be covering the polls all day and will bring you firsthand results live."


	4. I Am Thou

The morning is spent through separate activities. Few words are exchanged between the two boys, both troubled with their own thoughts. By the time afternoon swings around, Ren is pulling on a jacket.

"I'm going out."

Akechi pops his head up from reading emails on his phone he will never respond to.

"Doesn't that defeat the principle of being in hiding?"

"If I'm in here any longer I'm going to suffocate," Ren retorts.

Akechi eyes him wordlessly. If he were in a better mood he might have smirked at that remark, the great leader of the Phantom Thieves so agitated.

"We're going downtown to see the election results… You can, come if you want."

His eyebrows raise slightly. Akechi can't think of anything he would like to do less than be exposed to the public in his current state. Beyond that, he has the sneaking suspicion Ren only offered out of courtesy and accepting pity invitations wasn't an attractive option either.

"No thank you."

Ren nods, drumming his fingers on the insides of his jacket pockets.

"Well, you're welcome to whatever's in my room. There's food downstairs but don't go down if anyone is here." Ren gestures to the shelves. "I'm sure you want to change, just grab what fits I can always do more laundry.

"Oh, um, you can use my laptop." Ren walks to the desk and untangles the wires so the laptop and charger can be pulled out further. He places it on the bed.

"Does it have a password?"

Ren turns to the desk again and scribbles a long set of various letters and numbers on a notepad. He hands this over.

Satisfied that he has given Akechi enough to do in his absence, Ren begins to leave. "I'll be back later. You have my number."

* * *

The city center is bustling with energy. No doubt the crowds are all gathered tonight to celebrate Shido's landslide victory. Only a small party of people know how this is actually going to go down.

They stopped by a café on the way over, Ren with his hood up the whole time, securing a table in the restaurant while his friends grabbed everyone's orders. It was nice being out with them all, forgetting for a moment their role in the events of the evening and simply enjoying each other's company.

They're positioned now in the outskirts of the crowd, anticipating Shido's confession on the big screen at the height of his popularity. The news anchor is going on about how they are finishing tallying the results.

"How is Akechi doing?" Yusuke asks Ren among the noise.

"Not great."

"Oh? What is the matter?"

Ren isn't sure how much of their conversations is his information to share, but he's trying to be as transparent as possible with his friends. "Well with the palace and he knows what Shido's shadow said about him, I think he's having a hard time with the reality. Feeling guilty about his involvement."

Ryuji snorts, "Dudes got a lotta' ass kissin' to do if he wants to make up for it."

"I'm sure it's a lot to take in. Let us know if we can be of any help," Ann directs at Ren. He nods in return.

"If I can be forthright for a moment," Makoto starts, "I don't think we're handling this in the best way. Akechi is a criminal, isn't this something that should be left to a trial?"

Ryuji side-eyes her. "You still believe in the law after everything we've been through?"

"It's not about the police, I just think this is a problem that's beyond our influence. He's killed people and he needs help."

"Have you made a decision about it?" Morgana asks from Ren's bag.

"Not yet."

"Even more reason to pass this on to someone more qualified," Makoto contests.

Yusuke puts a hand to his chin. "Perhaps it is beyond our authority, but I can't help relating to him. I often wonder if, with all the wrong influences, a similar circumstance could've made its home in my own heart."

"You don't have the guts, Inari," Futaba teases without looking up from the game on her phone.

He swings his arm around dramatically. "That's preposterous! Anyone has the potential to engage in crime."

"I don't think that's somethin' you should be arguin' for," Ryuji adds, kicking at the ground.

"We're getting sidetracked from the point," Makoto states.

"Hey, Ren is doing the best he can with the situation. We should be supportive of his decision and of Akechi if need be, right?" Ann smiles, trying to soothe the tension.

A voice interrupts their squabbling, high in pitch, low and stiff in tone, almost through gritted teeth, "I… wish Akechi the best."

Her words cause the rest of them fall silent. They look to Haru, whose eyebrows are knitted, staring off at nothing. Makoto glares back at the rest of them and puts an arm around her. The conversation is over.

It was inevitable, but it was a discussion Ren hoped not to have at all. Everyone has a different opinion, and some were bound to disagree with his approach. The topic of Akechi is particularly a sore spot for Haru, it's difficult to blatantly analyze what he deserves right in front of her. Even so, Ren is surprised to see her loath support.

And while Makoto may have had a point about their ability to handle it, her opinions are too idealistic. Call it intuition, but Ren feels wrong about handing off Akechi to people who would never fully grasp what he's been through. It would be throwing him back into the same system that had failed him all his life. Ren struggles to see how that would do anything besides further breed his own misery.

* * *

When Ren leaves LeBlanc Akechi is satisfied to be alone, it means not having to look the other in the eye for the evening. Being so emotionally raw 12 hours before left him feeling ashamed. On one hand, crying eased some of the tension. On the other, it was a direct result of embarrassing behavior. What is the benefit to being vulnerable?

Akechi's mind is wearing at the edges. He doesn't know what to indulge and what to repress, simultaneously wanting to confront his reality and fall into a coma. Last night was a perfect example of how far he has sunk. It was the engine room round two with an extra dose of pathetic. Akechi is vehemently disgusted with himself.

No one is supposed to _know _him. Akechi wishes he could pry the words from Ren's ears and shove them back down his throat. It's an ache that resonates, a _fear_. He's put his very psyche on trial to Ren's scrutiny, voiding the ability to coil back into himself and throw up a façade. Ren is an intruder to the headspace, who perceives him and acknowledges him and Akechi can't thank Ren enough for cracking him open again and again, but he's also sorry that there is no substance for him to find. _It would all be easier if we said nothing at all._

Prior hours aside, the bonus to Ren being away is that Akechi can panic in peace. In a couple hours Shido will accept his victory on television, the first public appearance since his change of heart. It's the optimal time for the much-awaited confession.

Shido will describe his atrocities and want to answer for them. He will say how he has failed the people through his actions. All of Shido's associates will be dragged down as well for being accessories to his many crimes, not excluding his son, the ace detective, the hitman. It could very well only be a few hours until Akechi is hauled off to prison and it fills him with incredible anxiety.

Would he keep up the innocent act and lie his way through a trial? He might be able to still garner the support of the citizens if he remained artificial. Is running away and living in hiding a more valid option? No, a life on the run is just another existence of falsities and instability. Should he come clean? Akechi is barely surviving himself as is, the weight of their critical gaze might snap him in half. No matter how he looks at it, it's a losing game.

Akechi does what he can to fill the time until the election results are live. Distractions, any kind of distractions to keep him from ruminating. _It is what it is, life ends here. _He shakes his head, the faintest hint of hope that Shido keeps his mouth shut. _You'll get confirmation in a couple hours, stop thinking until then. _Always easier said than done.

He starts by tending to his injuries. The smaller cuts are nearly healed, the larger ones scabbed over, and the bruises transformed from purple to yellow. His arm is accepting more fluid movement as well. The rebandaging doesn't take nearly as long as he would have liked, so he moves on to browsing Ren's room. He pays special attention to the knick-knacks, taking much longer to contemplate each one than needed. Akechi tries to place the origin, imagining scenarios for how Ren acquired them.

That kills some time, but still not enough. Ren said earlier he could take whatever clothing he wanted to so Akechi goes over to the shelves, sifts through the neatly organized piles, and picks out any articles that seem interesting. He finds a white t-shirt with a silly graphic that he switches his own out for. He's looking for pants when he comes across a pair of dark skinny jeans that feature various tears on the thighs and knees. Akechi doesn't have such articles in his own closet and finds himself curious.

He always styled himself to garner respect, clothing that fit well and was clean to the eye: that often meant dressing rather conservatively. While he kept a few brightly colored shirts he wore around his dorm, the rest of his wardrobe was fairly neutral. These jeans were lively in comparison to anything he had.

After some struggling and almost falling over when his foot goes through one of the tears in the fabric, he manages to get the jeans uncomfortably up to his waist. There's no hope for keeping them buttoned without an intense amount of stomach sucking, Ren is lankier than him after all. He's amused by how they look on him but prefers the ability to breathe. He removes them and folds them how they were before, finding a pair of lounge pants that are navy and far more comfortable in exchange.

Come to think of it, he's never seen Ren wear those pants either. A relic from another time or just missed opportunities?

Running out of ways to entertain himself, Akechi resumes his position on the bed and pulls the computer onto his lap. It boots up and he enters Ren's elaborate password. The display still has the default background. He opens a web browser to search for news then gets struck with a thought: he could go to the history tab and see what Ren does on this thing. _No, that would be an invasion of privacy. _Akechi glances away from the computer, fidgeting with the trackpad, then decidedly hits the shortcut to open the browser history. The excitement fades immediately at the sight of a thoroughly cleared history window. _He must've erased it last night, that's no fun._

Akechi spends the remaining time aimlessly clicking through articles, his eyes unwillingly jolting to the time every few minutes. It passes by slowly. He keeps checking the news tab, waiting for the live feed to switch over to the election announcement.

The moment finally arrives. Shido looks the same, dressed professionally. Akechi's heart is pounding. Shido thanks the people for their support, he still sounds confident, then the mood switches. He admits to killing President Okumura, for lying about the Phantom Thieves, and for using people as steppingstones for his own gain. He wants the people to judge him, he wants to atone. The other people in the background of the camera look distraught.

The words Akechi has been waiting to hear don't come. The feed goes black. He frantically refreshes the page, scanning for any more news or commentary about Shido's speech, but the broadcast has been switched over to temporary advertisements. He pushes the laptop off of him.

It should be relieving but it's not. He wanted Shido to stay quiet yet somehow this was worse, it only bought him more time to anticipate. His head is locked in place under a guillotine with a rope that's begging to be cut at any time. If Shido didn't say it now, then when?! How long can the department push off his claims? How long till he's on trial and made to deliver the details? It would be simpler if the blade would come careening down on his neck, making it permanent. This not knowing, this unsure existence, excruciating, and there is no going forward while stuck in limbo.

* * *

Shido's confession is satisfying, all the hard work they've put in to get to this point is finally being realized. It brings Ren great pleasure to see the harsh and prideful man he knew reduced to such a quivering state. The world has been made aware of his injustices.

Despite the Phantom Thieves' fulfillment, the crowd gathered around them in the city center seem incredulous. He can hear various people, phrases like "I don't understand what's going on.", "Shido wouldn't do that. Is this some kind of prank?", and "Maybe the pressure is getting to him. He was just hospitalized." are being uttered. Something feels off about it.

Shido was just exposed on television for having been a liar and a murderer, shouldn't they see their error in trusting him as a political candidate? The calling card was made public so it can't simply be that it was sudden. Although, he still overwhelmingly won the election even with the announcement of the calling card. Maybe the people need more time to process and have their questions answered.

The Phantom Thieves conclude their presence in the crowd, heading to meet Sae after work. Ren keeps his head low in the packed streets. Shido's victory is confused, but people are celebrating regardless. He takes out his phone to look occupied and sees a message from 30 minutes ago. He goes to respond.

Futaba: "I'm sorry for freaking out earlier today. Guess that kinda' backtracks what we've been working on, huh?"

Ren: "It doesn't at all, you have nothing to apologize for."

Futaba's phone buzzes and she swipes out of her game to answer. The rest of the Thieves are chatting idly.

Futaba: "Thanks… I just wish I wasn't so skittish."

Ren: "Look at all the progress you've made. It's normal to have setbacks."

Futaba: "I guess. If you say it's okay, then I will accept it!"

Ren: "Haha. There's something else I wanted to bring up, actually. You messaged me the other day about having questions for Akechi?"

Futaba: "Oh. Yeah, I do."

Ren: "Would it be okay to bring him by after this?"

Futaba: "Bring him to talk to me?! Like directly?!"

Ren: "Yes. I think it would probably be better to talk about it in person."

Futaba: "Okay… but I want you to be there too."

Ren: "I won't go anywhere 😊."

The group reaches a discreet video store where they scheduled to meet Sae, who is already inside. The store is rather small, but the cashier is busy talking to the only other customer about heated conspiracy theories concerning the election. Their presence is of no particular interest.

"Ah, I see your plans were successful. You should be proud," Sae says as she browses DVDs on the shelf.

"Hell yeah, we're proud. Jackass got what was comin' to him," Ryuji exclaims.

"What's the next step, sis?" Makoto asks.

Sae pulls a case from the shelf and examines the back of it. "You have all done your part in this, so you should go back to focusing on your studies. I'll be forming a team to put Shido on trial and make sure his crimes are accounted for." She slides the DVD back into its spot and continues looking.

"Thank you for doing this," Haru says.

"Of course. I owe it to all of you to not stand idle. I will bring him to justice by any means necessary."

Sae's distorted desires have dissolved since the events in the interrogation room, but that doesn't change the fact that she is competitive. When it comes to trials, her conviction is unwavering and any resources at her disposal will be used to accomplish her goal. She could pose a problem.

"Also, I can't guarantee they won't come after you because they know your face, Amamiya, but it should be safe to return to school. Enjoy your evening, everyone. There is a lot of preparation I must attend to. Makoto, I will see you at home." Sae smiles to them and exits the shop.

"This is incredible," Yusuke announces excitedly. It's apparent he wasn't giving Sae his full attention. He holds up a DVD case with a particularly avant-garde cover for the rest of them to see. "I have no idea what this is about, but the cover speaks for itself. I must rent this."

"With what money?" Ryuji asks.

"You're right." Yusuke ponders, then extends it out. "Ren, would you please rent this for me?"

Ren makes a face and hesitantly accepts the movie. Some of the girls giggle as he takes it to the counter and pays for it.

* * *

Akechi didn't think Ren was serious about his earlier suggestion to speak with Futaba however, here they are, walking through the backstreets to the Sakura's house. He is borrowing one of Ren's jackets for the utility of a hood, cloaked entirely otherwise in articles that don't belong to him, which feels out of place yet refreshing. It is alluring to pretend for a moment that he is not himself.

The front door is pre-unlocked. This is Akechi's first time in Sojiro's home. It is quaint and unassuming, much like the diner, and unwelcome to him specifically all the same. He doesn't want to look at any detail for too long or touch things that don't belong to him. If he could exit as swiftly as he entered, without leaving a trace of his mark on anything, that would be ideal. He's here by Ren's request alone.

They go up the stairs to a dimly lit hallway. Ren knocks on a door decorated with caution tape and a "Do Not Enter" sign. The door cracks open seemingly on its own.

Upon stepping into the room, Akechi is shocked by its vibrancy in comparison to the rest of the house. He is mesmerized by the organized chaos. She has all kinds of articles, prints, and stickers stuck to the walls and doors. There are some distinctly normal aspects one would expect of a girl her age, then there's the immediate contrast by an overflowing amount of tech. Much like Ren's room, it's unique.

Morgana is sitting on the desk that's lavish with all sorts of glowing screens and computer paraphernalia. Ren joins him nearby after laying his jacket over the back of the chair. Futaba is on her bed, knees pulled to her body. Akechi politely closes the door behind him then occupies the space sandwiched between the bed and the wall, not wanting to trespass further into her domain.

She sees Akechi's face up close for the first time. The quick glimpse at a distance this morning made her wonder, but now she was sure.

"Akechi, you don't look so good," Futaba observes.

He looks mildly offended and pulls the edge of the hood further over his face. _Ahh, Futaba, those are one of those things you aren't supposed to say to people!_

"I-I'm sorry! I mean y-you just look different than before, not in a bad way. I absolutely did not mean that in—uh, yeah." She trails off, realizing blabbering isn't helping. Futaba looks at Ren who gives her an encouraging expression. Akechi certainly isn't going to start _this_ conversation.

"Ren thought that we should talk. I have questions."

Akechi is irritable and isn't feeling up to another round of interviews. He tries not to show the discontent on his face, emotions permeating his visage a lot easier lately.

"Ask."

Futaba is trying to put her thoughts into words and while she does this, keeps getting stuck on how different Akechi is. Yes, he's like the disaster version of his detective prince front, but it's more than that. The mannerisms, the tone, completely lacking ego and confidence. She sees that Ren was understating his summary of "not great" from earlier.

"You killed my mom, we're already clear on that, so let's just get into this," she says with a bite, "From what I gathered of your speech you also had a single mom who was taken from you. I don't know about yours, but mine had a mental shutdown into traffic right in front of me. There's no chance to say goodbye, to ask what you could've done better as their child. You know the pain of having your only real family ripped away from you and you did that to me. I got stuck with shitty relatives like you did. I spent the last two years suicidal until they," she points, "stole my heart."

Akechi is taken aback by her quick shift into seriousness. He didn't expect the conversation to turn dark this fast nor the sorrow to well up again so soon. Everything she said was fair, he understands that pain all too well, though Akechi was spared the torment of actually witnessing his mother's suicide. But the feelings, the confusion, why me, why this, how do I survive without you, he knows. And he knows that he inflicted that same dreadful situation on her. He shifts awkwardly in his spot.

Futaba does a quick exhale. "Now that I've said that, I get it. You were taking orders. My mom had information Shido wanted to use and conceal. If it wasn't you, I'm sure it would've been someone else. Since you saw though, I was wondering what her shadow was like in Mementos. Did she say anything?" She chews on her thumb nail.

Akechi starts conjuring a lie in his head, something he can say to ease her pain when he glances at Ren. He's looking at him intently, cautiously, daring him to say the wrong thing. Ren wants something out of this exchange. _What is it that you want? More honesty? Does it bring you pleasure to watch me bleed? _Nevertheless, Akechi will do what he wants because disappointing another person is more than he can take.

He breathes deeply. "I remember your mother's shadow. She was one of the earlier people I was assigned. But I had made it a habit to minimize any conversations with the shadows after the first time, I unfortunately can't give you much."

Futaba looks down, obviously hoping for a little more. "What was her shadow like?"

"She seemed overwhelmed, anxious, like she was desperate to finish something."

"That makes sense."

There's a long pause. Futaba is working herself up to ask the question she really wants to know. The question that will determine what she really thinks of Akechi.

"Did you write the note?"

Akechi tilts his head, puzzled by the question.

"The suicide letter."

He looks around at the three in the room, they're all staring at him.

"I… I'm not familiar with a suicide letter."

Futaba is visibly relieved. He doesn't know what it is.

"When my mom passed away, they held a hearing for our family. These men in suits showed up to reveal evidence they'd uncovered. It was a suicide letter that Shido had fabricated, and in it, detailed that she had committed suicide as a result of me. Said that I was a strain on her life, she regretted giving birth to me. And my family believed it, I believed it."

"Futaba…" Akechi braces an arm on the closet door for support.

It wasn't enough to take her mother from her?! He had to put poison in the wound too. He could consider his own situation a cruel byproduct of Shido's negligence, but Futaba's was done with intent. She thought it was her fault, she thought her mother resented her. All those similar thoughts he had about his own mother, Shido had planted them on purpose for her. There's no line he won't cross.

_Stop, please make it stop. _The more Akechi learns about the intricacies of Shido's plots, the more he wants to rip his hair out. _Look what I've done to these people. If I had just killed him none of this would've happened._

"I'm so sorry…"

Akechi feels his knees buckle as he gradually goes down to the floor. He hunches over his thighs, gripping them tightly. _I can still kill him, it's not too late. There's no arguing he deserves to die, I could take revenge for all of us. I already suspect where they're holding him, I just need to get a gun. No, a knife. Time is of the essence. I could do it with a knife._

"Akechi," Futaba says.

He looks up at her, his eyes are wild. She's seen this look before, in the engine room, it's pure animosity. She can only guess at what must be running through his mind.

"It's over now. Shido's heart is changed, he confessed."

_Maybe it's over for you. I still have a death sentence hanging over my head._

"Hey," she levels with his eyes, "Shido's actions are not a reflection of you. Yeah, you did what he asked, you played his game, but I don't think that's who _you _are. Honestly, if something evil had awakened to me at the darkest point in my life, I don't know what I would've done. Don't let him have power over you anymore." She taps her index finger on her temple twice.

He has to digest that. He sits back on his heels, some of the rage dissipating out of distraction. She made all those accusations earlier and she still thinks he has worth? He squints. "Are you forgiving me?"

"Is that what you need to move forward?" Futaba questions in return.

"No, I… I'm just surprised that you can still think positively of me."

Futaba is still learning what the right things to say are. Ren, Morgana, and Sojiro help keep her on track. And even though she wanted Ren there for backup, she feels like she did okay with this. Futaba can recognize a cry for help because not too long ago she was the one crying. It's desperate and it's not pretty and for every, one person who understands there will be a thousand who won't. If all she can do for Akechi is be someone who understands, who doesn't continue to punish him when he already punishes himself, then that's what she will do.

"I forgive you, Akechi, and I'll do you one better. I support whoever it is that you want to be now."

Tears are building up at the edges of his eyes and he furiously blinks to keep them away. He mouths, "Thank you." It barely registers above a whisper. The room settles into a content silence.

Unbeknownst to the rest of them, Sojiro has been hanging at the end of the hallway listening to their conversation. His arms are folded, considering his own feelings in light of the recent events. He wonders if his kids are simply way ahead of him on this whole "compassion" thing.


	5. Thou Art I

It's raining outside, the forecast had been calling for it this week.

"And don't forget your exams start tomorrow. If you haven't started studying, well, I don't know how to help you," Ms. Kawakami says.

_What a nice first day back. _The only thing that could have made it more perfect is if he had shown up on the exam day itself.

Throughout his teacher's lecture he'd been staring out the window. She covered the material that would be on her exam, even listing how many questions there were and in what format. Ren wasn't too worried about remembering the details. If he didn't pay attention Ann would, and if she didn't, Mishima definitely would. He'd grab the notes later.

Ren had a knack for cramming at the last minute, which became incredibly useful considering all the other shit he had to deal with since transferring to Shujin. Akechi's situation was the issue at the forefront of his mind today. How could he even focus on something as trivial as schoolwork when someone's life was hanging in the balance?

In school, they teach subjects such as ethics, law, and history. They introduce the concepts and they have the students discuss the outcomes of the theoretical. Or, they present conflicts with well-defined endings and have them debate about whether it was warranted or not.

From an outsider perspective, an impartial party to words on a piece of paper, it seems easy to cast down judgement because at the end of the day it doesn't matter. The students walk away wondering if they earned enough speaking points to get an "A." The imaginary remains imaginary and the scripted events rest in the past.

In real life it's not that simple. There are biases, repercussions, empathy, and no single entity that determines if the choice is the correct one. It's not a task in proficiency but a mind-breaking crunch on morality. What do people deserve? What he is taught in school could never come close to answering such a question.

And all of this is not to belittle the process of learning, it's to say that nothing could've prepared Ren for the weight of the decision looming over his head.

"No Morgana?" Ann is leaning over the back of her chair. Ren realizes the other students are heading out for lunch.

"He's staying with Futaba today."

It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't exactly the truth either. Ren always took Morgana to school—he was essentially an unaccounted-for student with how much information he retained—but Ren is guilty to admit this morning the practice completely slipped his mind. He remembered once he was already on the train and shot Futaba a frantic text, explaining he was in a rush and had a lot of errands to do and he'd take Morgana to school tomorrow. She said it was no problem, Morgana was asleep anyway, but Ren hates forgetting commitments he makes to others.

When the two friends step outside the classroom, Ryuji is already strolling up. "Ugh, I was starving all through that class," he groans.

"Same, I'm gonna' start hiding snacks in my desk or something," Ann replies.

"Good idea. Hey, I need to ask you an English question. You got time after school?"

"Err, no, I have to stop by work. I can answer it now though?"

"Guess we're studying through lunch," he sighs, "I need a soda."

Ryuji and Ann turn to start walking.

"I have to stop by the lab, I'll catch up with you guys in a bit," Ren says, rubbing his neck.

Once Ren takes off down the hallway and is out of earshot, Ann asks Ryuji, "Does he seem off to you today?"

"Eh, there's a lot goin' on, he's probably stressed."

* * *

Ren leans on the doorway to the biology lab and knocks against the wall a couple times to get the attention of the only person inside.

"Hi, Ren," Haru greets and waves him over. She's adding water to a series of potted plants along the windowsill.

"I was just checking on them before lunch. Since the weather has gotten too cold, I've been trying to branch out from vegetables." She plucks a mint leaf from the stalk and hands it to him for inspection.

He lifts it to his nose to smell the fragrance then turns it over in his fingers, paying attention to the color. "They're coming along nicely."

"Thanks. I'm glad I could convince the teacher to let me grow them here."

Ren sets the leaf on the sill and then rests his hand there. Haru continues checking the soil and the leaves, turning one of the pots so another side gets more sunlight. She notices his demeanor after he doesn't add anything to the conversation.

She looks at him. "What's up?"

"Did you mean what you said yesterday about Akechi?"

"Oh," her eyes fall, "That. I did but, I'd rather just not be involved. I want you to do what you think is best, Ren." She's still tending the plants, though absentmindedly now.

"I know my father wasn't a good man. Akechi did something that I'm sure a lot of people thought was deserved. I truly wanted my father to stop mistreating people but more so, I wanted him to come back to me. We had the chance to start over, to have a healthy relationship, and it got ripped away so suddenly. People talk about regrets, wanting do-overs and rarely do they get the type of opportunity I was presented. It was probably a selfish want in the first place."

She shakes her head. "I'm rambling. There's no point in me dwelling on what I can't change. The bottom line is I'm tired of people being hurt and hurting others—think of all the circumstances that could've been different if humans treated each other with kindness.

"Even if I don't approve of Akechi's choices, I don't want to have a hand in his suffering. I genuinely hope for everyone's sake that he gets better."

"Thank you for explaining that," Ren says.

Haru lets out an exasperated hum and changes the topic. "I don't think the herbs will be of much use in the metaverse."

"That's okay. I could cook with them sometime?"

She smiles a little. "I'd like that."

* * *

When the weather was warmer and free of rain, they'd eat lunch in the courtyard. Since neither of those were possible at the moment they opted for a table in the corner of the library. Usually, being loud during the lunch period wasn't a problem, but since exams were starting the next day, it was packed with kids frantically skimming textbooks. Any talk beyond a hush warranted glares from nearby tables.

"This doesn't make any sense, who decided that _that's _how you pronounce it?" Ryuji fiercely whispers.

"Look, as long as you get the translation, I don't think the teacher is gonna' care," Ann responds.

Ren's leg is bouncing a mile a minute under the table, and he has to consciously will it to be still. He's chewing on the yakisoba pan he grabbed from the school store, staring at a book in front of him, although his mind is faraway. Every free moment leading up to the exam should be spent reviewing material, but it doesn't seem like he'll be able to focus until his apprehension concerning Akechi is resolved.

Ryuji flips his own book around and pushes it in Ren's direction. "Dude, do you understand this?"

He stares at the highlighted word on the page. It's from a short passage detailing a conflict. He remembers there was something irregular about this one when they went over it in class.

"Col… 'Ker-nal?'" Ren manages.

"How do you remember that?!" Ryuji asks too loudly. The girls at a neighboring table shoot daggers in their direction. "Sorry, sorry…"

"They said knowing what it means is more important than being able to pronounce it, you'll be fine," Ann says, irritation lacing her voice.

"Makoto is gonna' have my ass if I don't do better this time."

* * *

Ren spends the afternoon deciding how to bring up another difficult conversation. Futaba is able to forgive Akechi, Haru is willing to put her personal feelings aside. Yusuke, Ann, Morgana, and Ryuji have their own varying take on sympathy. He needs one more person on board for it to be unanimous.

The bell rings for the end of the day and the students shuffle out once again. Ren says goodbye to Ann and heads directly for the student council room. Makoto is hanging up a poster outside the doorway.

"Hey, can I talk to you in private?"

His question is urgent in a way that immediately concerns Makoto. "Yeah." She finishes stapling the poster into a board and guides him into the room, latching the door shut behind them. They sit side by side on the couch. Makoto folds her hands in her lap and patiently waits for him to start.

"I think I know what I want to do for Akechi. I need to talk to him about it first to be sure but, I need to know that I have your support."

"What is it that you're proposing?"

"I don't want to turn him in."

Makoto inhales through her nose in contemplation. "And what if he hurts someone?"

"Then that's on me."

"It's not, though, that's the thing. How do you think the rest of us could sit around in good conscience if he killed someone again, knowing that we could've stopped him, and we didn't?"

Ren thinks back to the pained expression on Akechi's face when he described the joylessness in slaughter. _People are victims of their circumstances. When the Phantom Thieves are gone, the ability to change hearts void, what do we have left? I want to believe in the good in people._

"He's not going to," Ren states definitively.

"How can you be sure?"

"I trust him, Makoto. I don't think that's ever the person he's wanted to be."

Ren is holding her troubled gaze steadily.

"Sometimes trust defies logic," she retorts.

"You're coming at this from the angle that everything goes wrong. Isn't it equally as likely to go right? Wouldn't it feel good to know that we could save others without using our personas?"

Makoto leans back into the couch and crosses her arms. "Am I being too pessimistic? I'm arguing against trying to help someone right now."

"I understand where you're coming from. I've thought a lot about it too."

"I guess locking someone up or turning them over to another authority doesn't necessarily mean they're receiving the proper support."

He feels like he's making leeway with the conversation. Time to bring up the more pressing issue.

"There's something difficult I have to ask of you specifically."

Her eyes widen. "What is it?"

"It's very important that Sae doesn't find out Akechi is alive."

Makoto sits forward on the couch, becoming angry. "You're asking me to keep the truth from my sister?"

"I am."

"This is the first time I've ever been able to be really open with her. You want me to jeopardize that? I don't feel right about that, Ren."

"I know I'm asking a lot. I would keep her in the loop if I felt like…" He switches his line of thinking part way through. "Sae is driven to win this case against Shido. If she finds out Akechi is alive she'll want his testimony. He'll be arrested, his trial spotlighted across Tokyo. It's not what he needs right now, Makoto, I think it would very literally kill him."

Makoto huffs, ducking her head down, rubbing her fingers over her temples. After some consideration, she relaxes some and lifts her stare from the ground.

"You never ask us for help on anything. This must really mean a lot to you."

He doesn't respond to this, but the look in his eye is all the confirmation Makoto needs.

"Just until Shido is sentenced," he adds.

"Fine. If she finds out, it won't be from me. You better be right about this."

_That makes it unanimous. _Ren nods his head. The pressure that comes with being a leader isn't featherweight.

* * *

When Ren arrives home after school, he waves to Sojiro who is dealing with customers. In his room, Akechi is sitting on the bed fiddling with the computer, paying no real attention to the fact he's there. Ren hangs up his jacket and toys with a piece of his hair. The people downstairs don't seem to be leaving any time soon which is inconvenient.

Ren goes down to the counter and offers to help clean because he has to throw himself into something that isn't the numbing ordeal of schoolwork. It takes an hour, but Sojiro closes shop once the elderly couple bid their farewells, leaving Ren to finally deal with what's been on his mind all day.

Upstairs, Akechi hears a muffled noise, removing one of the earbuds as Ren simultaneously lands on the couch. "What are you watching?" Ren presumably repeats.

"Listening to the news."

Ren tries to think of a crafty way to lead into the conversation but, being blunt seems to work better for him and he's wasted enough time today as is.

"What do you think justice is?"

"More 20 questions?" he asks, annoyed. Akechi pulls the other earbud out and sets the laptop to the side, sensing this is going to be another long discussion.

It doesn't faze Ren, who gives him a cheeky look.

"I think it depends on who you ask."

"I'm asking you."

Akechi tugs on his earlobe. "Once justice was vanquishing imaginary enemies and playing the hero, then it was trying to get my foster family arrested, then it was plotting to ruin my father's life. Now I don't know what it is. But you were probably looking for a broader answer."

"Justice for you is personal then."

"Is it not for everyone? We all have circumstances we wish we could change. We're all victims in our own stories as much as we are antagonists in someone else's."

Ren is looking for something more literal. He attempts to steer the discussion down another path.

"What about the rules defined by society? That's an attempt to make the most informed decision for a given situation."

"Regulations can be very black and white. There's certainly something to be said about wanting to adhere to societal standards though. Whether you agree with them or not, you feel their pressure. But I feel like you're being roundabout when you want to ask me something specific. What is it that _you _would have me do about my situation?"

"Well, the justice system would have you in prison."

"Hmph, I could only hope for the death penalty. I would rather kill myself then spend the rest of my life rotting in a cell."

When Akechi talks like that, as if his life is something to be easily and readily thrown away, it makes Ren distressed. The discomfort makes him want to move and he stands up to go lean on the wall with his arms crossed. He can see the blurry lights of the street through the rain covered panes.

"You know, when we first decided to go after Kamoshida we weren't sure if stealing his treasure would actually work. We went in knowing our actions could kill him. And honestly, if scum like him were dead by my hand the world wouldn't be worse for it."

"Yes, but you didn't kill him. Easy to speak in hypotheticals. You don't have to try to relate to me."

"I'm a criminal under the law too though."

"And despite these laws you speak about, you continue with your sense of righteousness. Justice is personal to you as well." Akechi scoots to the end of the bed to let his feet touch the ground. "We want society's support, perhaps even crave it to validate our actions, but we ultimately operate outside of its confines. Does that make it wrong? I believe that all comes down to who makes and enforces the rules."

"The law would have you and me 6 feet under, so frankly, I'm not inclined to agree with their approach. So, if we don't believe wholeheartedly in the law and instead find truth in our own efforts, how do we make up for past mistakes?"

Akechi smirks at how Ren circles the conversation back around. "What's defined as a mistake?"

"Something you want to make up for."

He relents, aware that the deadpan look in Ren's expression means he knows Akechi is being quizzical on purpose.

"Be better people?" he muses, answering the original question. It sounds like such a one-dimensional response, "better" has an infinite list of interpretations.

He must have said something that struck a nerve though because Ren whips the desk chair around, sits promptly to look him dead in the eyes, and says like it's obvious, "Atone. Give back to the society that has failed you and help make the world a better place."

"Oh, I see. You've been biding your time to give me a speech on how to be a _good person like you_,"Akechi scornfully responds.

"You can be smug all you want but there's a reason you haven't tried leaving."

Akechi's shoulders tense up at the challenge. _I never asked for your help! _He almost growls it back, but it's not true. The day Akechi decided to pitifully wait on his doorstep, he became involved in the situation. Ren knows that he is alive and by extension has assumed responsibility.

Under the surface, Akechi hates to admit that he wants someone's guidance. When his focus on independence has always thrown him in the wrong direction he'd love to just, one more time, take instructions from someone else. Not as a doll from its puppet master, as an equal from someone who has his best interests at heart.

He clenches his jaw and doesn't retaliate with words. Ren takes it as a cue to continue.

"I've stolen enough hearts now to know that yours is changed. You regret your actions. You're going to feel the weight of them for the rest of your life and you don't need to be in a prison cell to do that. Your life is worth more than that fate, you have far too much to offer the world."

The first thing Akechi is conscious of is his heartbeat. Then it's the twisting sensation of his guts knotting themselves together. "What if Shido says—"

"Deny it."

"Is that the right thing to do?" It's an honest question from the person previously debating what "right" even is. For a moment he opens himself willingly to Ren's thoughts, to receiving a sentence or being freed from one.

Ren wants to take his hands into his, pass along the sincerity through his fingertips. His hands creep a little along his own thighs before gripping the loose fabric instead.

"Depends on who you ask, but I think so," he says softly, teasingly. "Ultimately it's your decision. You are in control of your life now. But I am also your advocate and I will do whatever I can to keep you safe. The Phantom Thieves will not be the ones to turn you in."

Akechi nods slightly, as if he isn't quite present enough to grasp the words running through his ears.

Ren grows serious again. "I have rules though. You do not enter the metaverse and you do not harm or kill someone ever again. If I get the slightest inkling that you have disobeyed these, I will not hesitate to make you pay dearly for it.

"Promise me."

Akechi swallows.

"I promise."


	6. Permission to Live

Akechi never planned to live this long.

He's alternating between staring at the ceiling, closing his eyes, and rolling on his sides. He doesn't know what time it is or how long it's been since Ren left for school and he doesn't particularly care either. The only thing he can rightfully sense is the weight of the blanket and his head pressed into the pillow. Everything else may as well not exist.

When he set out on the path to ruin his father's life, the details of what came after weren't important. Maybe the public would take sympathy on him or maybe he would've been equally shunned for being a bastard, but he would accept whatever blows would come as long as Shido got what he deserved: his life entirely dismantled.

_Would I have been satisfied with that? _Perhaps he would've been in this situation no matter how it had gone down. Devoting his whole life to a purpose, even if then completed, would still result in the need of a new purpose. But he didn't really want one of those either because that meant needing to evaluate something deeper about himself.

Akechi decides over and over again in his head that he would be better off dead, killed off as a martyr or a sacrificial offering to the prison complex—again, the details weren't important. To stop having to think, to end having a presence that invariably impacted those around him, that's all that mattered. The pursuit of peace of mind, or to not have a mind at all. Seeping senselessly into the black gunk like every shadow in Mementos was suddenly an attractive fate.

It's a nice fantasy to live in, but Ren is right, _like he always is, _that Akechi is all talk and no action. In fact, Akechi has very little willpower to do anything at the moment. Planning a suicide would be a lot of effort, he didn't want it to hurt more than it had to after all.

It's rather a wish that someone would do it for him. No prior knowledge, not even to witness the click of a gun or the unsheathing of a blade. There was no desire to indulge the panic or worry that came with a decision or a realization. Quiet, black, and instantaneous would be the only acceptable approach.

Maybe he didn't even deserve to die. That was just the easy way out, wasn't it? The world would much prefer to watch him be nauseated with regret. They'd draw him up and take turns slicing at him with a knife. He'd become an abstract, red memorial to all the pain they'd suffered from losing their loved ones, but under no circumstances would they let him die. No, that was a place for people who were allowed to rest.

Death was where his mother lay, and he had not earned the right to lay beside her. Hers was a life removed from the world too soon, corrupted by the disingenuousness of her associates, driven to the edge because of his birth. He can't blame her. He's understood her will to succumb for a long time now. The world never stops turning and it has no problem dragging along everyone who can't stand up with it.

Akechi may have his mother's eyes, her hair, and a likeness Shido picked out that he'd never understand, but he did not have her gentleness. _He_ wrecks everything he touches. _He_ escalates situations from bad to worse. His mother tried to create a home for him where there was little to be found, and _he _rips people's families apart and pretends to not notice the damage. He can't return to her like this, empty-handed and stained.

And a terrifying thought crosses his mind that perhaps he is Shido's son after all, that where the parts of his mother end, the ones of his father begin. Had he turned into the very thing he sought out to destroy? What would his mother think if she saw him now?

His war with Shido was never for her. She never asked for vengeance or uttered ill words in front of him, she'd likely be disgusted that he'd gone so far as he did. In the end, she probably only wished for what was best for him and he had defied that too. He took on a life of trading miseries for influence, tied up by the bitterness that resonated throughout his being, it's never what she would have wanted for him. Was he even allowed to start thinking about moving forward from everything?

Decisions were confusing. He didn't want to go to jail, he probably didn't really want to die either, but the world would subject him to one of two fates and thus, he aligned his thoughts to fit them. Then Ren comes along spouting ulterior truths that beg a new question: How does one plan for doomsday to have another say it needn't happen at all?

As much as it drags him backwards, he wants to move on, make up for it in some way. But even if he accepts Ren's version as absolute, he still has other intricacies to figure out and the thought of more mental gymnastics is… considerable. Making decisions for himself, hah, he can't even get out of bed. What an immaculate display of self-sufficiency.

At some point along the day's blurred timeline, among the monotony of contemplating the same questions with no answers, Ren appears once again at the top of the stairs. He drops his bag on the table and gives a look of a concern. "Have you been lying there all day?"

Akechi doesn't bother to make eye contact. "I think I got up to use the bathroom once."

"Have you eaten anything?"

No answer.

Ren mutters under his breath, disappearing and reappearing several minutes later with an assortment of fruit, crackers, and a pastry, neatly arranged in a bowl. He sets it on the bed next to a very apathetic Akechi.

"I don't know what you're in the mood for, but please eat something."

"I don't have much of an appetite."

"Well, it's almost 4 pm, you need to get up. How about we go to the bathhouse? You haven't gotten to shower properly."

"Someone will recognize me."

"It's still early, no one will be there yet. I need you to eat so you don't pass out though."

_Disgusting attempts to take care of me. _Akechi slides his eyes over to give him a begrudging expression and pushes himself up into a sitting position. He slouches, eyeing the bowl of food like an intrusion. Ren's gaze is still on him and he's not going to stop pestering until the other complies. Akechi sighs and reluctantly brings one of the snacks to his lips.

After he picks through the food, Ren asks him to get up so he can peel the sheets from the mattress. "Can do some laundry while we're at it," he says. Akechi slides off the bed and moves to the couch, picking at the frayed ends of bandages on his hands once he sits down. _These probably shouldn't go in the water._

He follows the routine of removing all the material and discarding it, yet again. The bruising is still fading away in spots, but the scrapes have healed. He absorbs this otherwise good information with complete neutrality. The fluttering of sheets is unpleasant background noise.

Downcast and listless at the very idea of having to move more, Akechi fights the urge to fall on his side and curl up on the couch. "I'd really rather not go," he says quietly. The words taste gross coming out, a layer of film on his tongue.

Ren pauses bundling the laundry into a bag to look at him, his face gentle. "It's not healthy to stay in bed all day. It'll feel good to shower. You can climb back into bed when we get back, okay?"

Akechi feels like he's being herded around like a child. "Okay."

* * *

The pair hop across the brief part of the road that's being pummeled with rain. Ren comments that he'll be inside after he starts the laundry.

The bathhouse is empty, as predicted. Many people who frequent this one do so in the evening after work lets out. It feels sort of strange being in the space alone. The sounds echo more than he would've noticed otherwise.

The whole ordeal of getting dressed to immediately get undressed is tiresome action. He haphazardly tosses the clothes into the locker and proceeds with his towel into the main room.

Akechi turns the faucet on and sits on the stool, but even washing feels like a chore. What a contrast to the regimented beauty routine he'd been following for years. His body is already fucked from grime and injury, why not just stir in it? Some form of self-inflicted punishment he deserved. He had no one left to impress.

Ren saunters into the room shortly after and notices Akechi sitting hunched over his knees. He makes a comment that Akechi doesn't respond to, he's completely zoned out. Ren isn't sure if pushing him to come was the right thing to do, but he's rolling with it.

He grabs one of the shampoo bottles and leans down beside the other. "So, generally when you come here, you're supposed to rinse off."

Akechi pulls away from his thought to give him an empty look.

"And part of that is washing your hair." Ren pumps some of the liquid into his palm, internally nervous that he's gambling with Akechi's boundaries. He sets the bottle down and takes Akechi's hand to transfer the shampoo, lathering it in place. Akechi's mouth doesn't curve upward, but his eyes light up a little. The suds run down his forearm.

"I think you can handle it from here," Ren playfully concludes before moving down the line of showers to wash himself.

Despite the heaviness in his arms, Akechi manages to lift them to his head. He scrubs the shampoo lazily through his scalp and then gets distracted again. He didn't even protest Ren handling him so familiarly. Odd.

His arms have fallen back down to his lap, absentmindedly running a thumb along the fingers on his other hand, the spots that Ren touched. He doesn't get to contemplate it for long though, because a sizeable amount of water comes splashing down over his head. The soap in his eyes makes him wince. "Hurry up," Ren says. He can hear the smile in it.

They finish showering and move to the pool to soak, free to stretch out more than usual. The heat stings in a pleasant way as their bodies adjust to the temperature. The air just above the water is heavier. A couple minutes pass in decompression and Ren plays with another question that's been in his head today.

"If we could've stolen your heart, would you have wanted us to?"

"Not one for the meditative experience, hm?"

"Sorry." Ren goes silent, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the wall.

With nothing in the room pressuring him against it, Akechi's gaze falls on him. His hair is wet, half brushed away from his forehead. The rest is clinging to his face around his cheeks.

Lower. The outline of his body, the way the water gently laps up against the skin exposed. He can trace the outline further still, down below the water, along the length of his legs and back up again. His thigh is angled in such a way that he _can't quite see_—

Akechi snaps his head to the left when he realizes what he's doing. _It's merely curiosity. Right, Ren asked a question. What was that again? Hearts, stealing hearts._

He recomposes himself with a clearing of his throat. "Maybe if you had found my shadow in Mementos before I'd started anything, but now, no." Ren opens his eyes to show he's listening. "I've earned my anger; I see the world for the disaster that it is. I would hate to be reduced to a sniveling, repentant sob."

Akechi continues with the response to keep his mind from drifting. Rambling can sometimes be a talent.

"Even if the desires are distorted, you're still taking away a fundamental part of who someone is. I imagine that would've played out unfortunately for me. And if I'd grown visibly dejected and repulsed by killing, claiming I could no longer have a part in it or turning myself in, Shido certainly would've removed me from the picture.

"I'm not condemning your choices by the way. The outcome depends on the situation."

It was a point that Ren often thought about himself: they could've unintentionally caused another greater pain for having changed someone's heart in the first place. Stealing Akechi's treasure might have made him stop pursuing revenge against Shido and the consequences stemming from that, but that wasn't the whole picture. It would've been at the expense of who he was or worse, his life. Stealing hearts isn't a blanket fix to all problems.

With all that in mind, they tried to be careful. They investigated palaces and requests before deciding to take a treasure. Sometimes simply speaking to the shadow was enough. And a distorted desire didn't equate to evil in every case, Futaba being a prime example.

The world is better off than it was before from their actions, at least to his best knowledge, but they can't keep it up forever. People have to be better.

"How were your exams?" Akechi asks.

It must've been an attempt to continue the conversation because Ren never responded, but he is taken aback by the… consideration? He gets so wrapped up in thinking about the care of others, he's shocked by such an innocent inquiry from Akechi. _Did _he care about Ren's well-being?

"I think I did well enough to pass," he says with a tilt of his head and a small smile. Akechi responds with a nod. They soak in chest-fluttering silence for another 5 minutes.

* * *

Akechi waits in the chill of the open laundry area. Ren moves one set of sheets to the dryer and pulls another out. "I warmed up some of the clean ones," he says shyly.

Inside the café once more, Ren quickly fixes the bed up. Akechi takes a spot on it, sipping a glass of water. It _did _feel nice being clean, warmth radiating through his body and emanating from the sheets. A nice contrast to the murky cold of the outside. A strange sense of calm in an otherwise troublesome day.

"Do you wanna' use my hairbrush?" Ren grabs it off the desk and starts to hand it over. "Or…" then hesitates. "I could do it?"

Akechi can't fathom where Ren's energy to do all these selfless deeds comes from. He's accepted all the favors so far today, whatever. He shrugs passively.

Ren positions himself behind the other on the bed and tentatively starts working through the small knots. He's being gentle, so as not to tug the hair too hard, though it's soft to the point of being annoying.

"You're not going to hurt me," Akechi says curtly. Ren applies more pressure.

He generally didn't like people in his personal space, especially not touching him. Sitting in the makeup chair for the television interviews always made his skin crawl. It wasn't the crew's fault, they were only doing their job, but after they rejected his polite requests to do it himself, he had to smile sweetly through the process.

It doesn't feel so strange with Ren though. Perhaps that's because after sobbing into his lap, having his hair touched didn't compete. He's actually reminded how soothing it is to have his hair played with.

"I have a hard time understanding you," Akechi states.

"Why's that?"

"You're always going out of your way to help people. You're a vigilante for the common person and they still view you like a criminal. They're ungrateful for what you've done. Doesn't that make you angry?"

"It does, sometimes."

Akechi snorts. "The masses are so fickle. They don't understand what they really need. Why do we even let them think at all?"

"Akechi," Ren snaps, "don't talk like that. People work through things at their own pace. With everything, there are times to be rebellious and times to be patient."

The brush is able to pass through the length of his hair without getting snagged. Ren leads the motions, combing with his fingers.

"You'd just think that people would be a little more appreciative, but I've learned not to expect understanding from them."

Ren rests the brush in his lap. His voice gets solemn for a moment. "They'll never be able to understand it."

Akechi turns his head to face him and they share a knowing look. One that communicates an intimate familiarity with never being able to meet the expectations of others. To have gone through so much, repeatedly shoved down and tossed aside despite one's best efforts. Not supported, only useful when marketable, and a sponge for criticism.

Realizing he's contributed to the sour mood instead of soothing it, Ren offers a contorted smile. "I should get to studying."

The weight on the mattress shifts as Ren gets up. Akechi watches him grab the backpack from the table by the stairs and make his way back.

"Why do you do it, the thievery?"

"I didn't feel like I had a choice," Ren admits. He starts unpacking his bag onto the desk, laying out pencils and books. "I do now, I suppose. I guess it's because I can't stand watching people get hurt. If no one's gonna' take responsibility for it then I will."

It's not like he's able to come out and explain the situation with Igor and the wardens. There's a whole other personal layer to it he's not going to address. Ignoring that though, he thinks he probably would've kept making the same choices regardless. He possesses the power to help the people who cross his path, to stand idle would feel wrong.

"Even if it's to your detriment?"

Ren pauses setting up the desk at that. "I'm doing alright." He continues.

"You're tired." Akechi isn't fooled by his pretense, but it also didn't take much observation to notice he's bluffing. The past few days he's been here, Akechi watches him run from school to friends to commitments. He comes back home and takes care of the shop and makes sure his live-in patient hasn't entirely fallen apart yet. And when all of that is done, he sits down and studies for exams or does homework, often forgoing sleep. If the sheer fullness of his schedule wasn't enough to give it away, he's blatantly sporting a pair dreary bags under his eyes.

Akechi sets the glass down and leans back on his hands, watching the other place a textbook and flip to a particular page. "I know I'm probably the last person in the world you should be taking advice from, but you're allowed to take a break."

_If only that were true. _Ren is bound to a mystical contract to free his heart and avoid ruin, whatever the hell that means. He guesses that it's not entirely dissimilar to Akechi's arrangement with Shido in terms of survival, he might understand if he told him.

The urge to share is jerked back from the surface through the recognition that he shouldn't be emotionally relying on Akechi, for a lot of reasons. Because their relationship is shaky at best, and Akechi isn't in the place to hold up a support role right now, and even more because Ren doesn't like to give away that piece of himself to people. He is everyone's rock in these trying times and that's how he wants to be. The hard work he's put in has to have some sort of pay-off, _it will._

"Maybe soon."


	7. Hospitality

The rain hasn't let up since yesterday. What might've been a pretty morning before school, before Leblanc opened its doors, is gloomy and gray. Would it be a profitable day for the café (neighbors coming to seek somewhere dry?) or one that drove its patrons away?

Despite the answer, Sojiro unlocks the door to begin prep work. The thunderous repetition of rain hitting the sidewalk can be heard in the few moments it takes for the front door to open and shut.

He finds Ren seated in the booth nearest the entrance. His notebooks are sprawled across the table—not an uncommon sight when exams are concerned. Ren will attempt to shred through every note at his disposal with the thought that, if he has at least looked at every problem once, he'll be able to recall it come the exam. Sojiro knows better than to make conversation when he is like this, but it doesn't settle right that they haven't spoken in days.

Wordlessly, he follows through the motions of the morning: checking the register, getting the coffee going, warming up breakfast for them over the stove. It's normally quiet when Ren is studying, why does Sojiro suddenly feel the need to make himself heard?

Maybe it's the unspoken knowledge that there is another person taking up residence in his coffee shop. His café has become a refuge for criminal teens with incredible bounties on their heads, it's as if the place has taken on an entire life of its own.

Akechi has been careful not to be on the ground level when Sojiro is around. Sure, Sojiro could march upstairs and confront him, but he doesn't. He tries to respect Ren's privacy and he tries to respect the feelings of his kids toward the vagrant but, honestly, _he's the adult here. _Why is he letting everyone walk all over him? He's too soft, certainly too soft.

He starts to think about Wakaba and Futaba and how their lives could've been if she hadn't been flung into traffic. All of the horrible things Futaba had to go through (for what, the pursuit of avarice?) could've been avoided. He worries that he's invited trouble back into his home by allowing the ex-assassin to stay. It's about time he said something. He needs to be stricter as a parent, give this detective kid the grueling talking-to that he needs.

Sojiro is putting a plate together when he asks, rather sternly, "Is he here?"

Ren looks up from the notebook, his gray eyes wide and unreadable. He gives a slight nod.

"Bring him down here."

He promptly slides out of the booth to walk to the end of the hall. He leans on the railing to call Akechi down and returns to his spot by the window, giving Sojiro a weary look in passing.

Fifteen seconds later there's the sound of someone descending the stairs. Sojiro places a fist on his hip. He is ready to let him have it, to explain in unsympathetic detail how he should feel ashamed. Akechi has killed and hurt people that Sojiro loves dearly, he has betrayed everyone's trust, he's taken advantage of Ren's bleeding-heart naivety and Sojiro wants to kick him to the curb and make him hurt and establish his place and…

There's a boy standing in the archway. He is calm and blank and bruised. And there's something about the way he holds himself now, with straight posture, that communicates a readiness to absorb the storm of accusations brimming in Sojiro's throat. _Do your worst_, it says. And it's so different from the caricature on television, the same one that would sit at the counter with coy expressions and heady knowledge about the world.

Sojiro opens his mouth to yell and instead finds himself releasing a long sigh. "What's your favorite type of coffee here?"

Akechi's eyes widen. "Um, the Brazilian Bourbon."

"Have a seat, I'll make you a cup," Sojiro instructs with a glare, then a twist toward the shelves. He thinks about how Akechi should really find somewhere better to stay, that him being here and establishing a connection to the people hiding him—should the information ever come to light—would ultimately be bad for everyone. He'll communicate this later to Ren in private though and goes about preparing an additional coffee.

Meanwhile, Akechi shifts in place for a moment before walking toward the booth to sit across from Ren. He briefly acknowledges the presence but is otherwise twirling his hair in one hand and a mechanical pencil in the other.

Akechi examines the problem from upside down and realizes it's not that difficult. It wasn't too long ago that he himself had learned the subject.

Ren keeps staring at the paper, as if willpower alone will trigger the solution, and at this point it seems like he's struggling. He taps the pencil on a lower problem and draws a blank on this one as well.

"I remember this subject from last year," Akechi says delicately, "if you'd like assistance."

Ren stops twiddling the pencil and looks up at him, like he's considering something, then dispassionately sits more upright, turns the worksheet sideways, and hands over the pencil.

Feeling a twinge of jittery confidence, Akechi starts drawing out the unit circle and mnemonic devices near the edge of the paper. "It's simple trigonometry. If you can memorize these, it will help you with a lot of problems.

"In this one, you're solving for the angle theta. In a right triangle you have a hypotenuse and two sides. Depending on the angle you're solving for, you'll have an opposite and an adjacent side," he makes little notes of the letters by the lines of the triangle, "Then you use this mnemonic with the available info and plug in whichever one fits." Akechi demonstrates the solution: writing out all the steps, drawing arrows, and plugging the information into a calculator. The answer is finalized with a neat oval drawn around it.

"Does that make sense?" he asks, realizing he went on a bit of a tangent.

Ren exhales, focused and relieved, "Yeah."

"Try the next one." He hands the pencil back.

He repeats the same steps that Akechi showed, referencing his work right above, and checks the answer sheet for confirmation. It's correct: a wave of frustration alleviated now that the material makes more sense.

Sojiro stops by the table shortly after to deliver breakfast and hot coffees before returning to prep. They both express appreciation at the gesture.

Ren takes a bite of the food while flipping through papers. "Thanks, I have another question about this section," he states, placing a different sheet between them.

Akechi doesn't mean to beam, but the gentle morning and the gratitude towards his usefulness leave him feeling soothed as he receives the pencil once more from Ren's fingertips.

* * *

In the late afternoon, Akechi is crouched in front of the fridge. He's examining the contents, deciding that today he _is_ in the mood to eat more than a singular meal. Normally, he isn't supposed to be down here during business hours, but Sojiro stepped out and well, there isn't much to fear from Sojiro anymore considering this morning's display.

He's shoving leftover curry and containers of sauce around the shelf to look further back when the bell on the front door rings. Akechi freezes in place. Sojiro, having only taken his exit several minutes ago, surely couldn't be back by now. Did he forget to lock the door?

Akechi, as quietly as possible, closes the fridge and backs up. He gets into a standing position to wedge himself into the corner between the stove tops.

This situation poses some problems. Assuming it is only Sojiro, everything is fine. He'll round the corner and make some sort of snide comment about why Akechi is down here acting stupid. Assuming it's not him and a random customer has found their way in, that's more problematic—especially if they recognize him, which they probably will, considering he's made an appearance on every news outlet for the last 6 months.

Information will spread that there was a possible sighting of the missing detective prince at Leblanc, meaning he'll have to find somewhere else to hide, and quickly. He'll need to erase any trace of his residence so that Ren and Sojiro don't get further pulled into the mess.

He leans more into the corner and tries not to breathe loudly. Maybe they'll leave. Or they'll take a seat and wait until Sojiro comes back, allowing Akechi to give him a silent signal when he goes to grab the curry.

He could make a mad dash right now for the stairs or the bathroom. It would be suspicious and strange, but they might not recognize him from behind. Unless… it's someone specifically looking for him. Someone like Sae or one of Shido's goons would know it's him immediately. He'd have no choice at that point but to run, shoving whatever objects or people aside in order to dart behind the counter and out the door.

Akechi hears someone's footsteps getting closer and they're distinctively fainter than Sojiro's. His head is flat into the wall. He's forcing the air slowly in through his nose and out his mouth, mentally kicking himself for deciding hunger was ever worth blowing his cover. Every muscle is tense, ready to spring if need be.

"Oh, perfect! You're already down here," a voice announces.

He turns his head to see Futaba standing at the end of the counter with her hands behind her back. She looks amused. Being squished into a grimy corner is suddenly feeling very embarrassing. He squeezes around the stove to stand near the fridge again, wiping the dust from his clothes and releasing the tension he's been holding.

"Do you need something from me?" he asks, uncertain.

"Ah, not really. I figured it must get boring while Ren's at school."

"You're trying to keep me company?" _Nothing about the Sakuras makes any sense. _He supposes this outcome is far better than any of the ones he anticipated, though.

Futaba blinks and then lets out an exasperated sigh as she adjusts the headphones around her neck. "Okay, look, it's not just for you." She climbs onto the nearby stool to crouch. "I'm following this list thing that Ren's been helping me with and one of the items is to have a normal conversation with someone around my age. You're on house arrest and I don't go to school, so here we are. Consider it just taking advantage of a situation."

Akechi quirks an eyebrow and leans against the wall, supposing he can indulge her. "What is the purpose of this list?"

"It's kinda personal," she grumbles, tucking her chin into her arms. Akechi slowly nods in understanding, not attempting to pry.

"Sooo, what do people usually talk about?" Futaba lifts her head up as she asks, "Music, TV shows, the flat earth theory?", each item spoken with a little more enthusiasm than the last.

"I like to listen to jazz," Akechi attempts.

"Ehnt," she makes the sound of a buzzer, "boring. What are you, old?"

"I don't believe age has anything to do with the appreciation of a music genre."

"You don't get out much, do you?"

Akechi furrows his brow. _That's rich coming from you._

"Well, if you're so enlightened, propose a topic then."

Futaba places a finger against her lips in thought, "Hmm." She then forms that hand into a fist to smack into the palm of the other. "Ooh! You had a laser sword and a ray gun in the palace, you must be some sort of nerd. Have you ever seen Featherman?"

* * *

When Ren arrives home from school, he's mildly alarmed to hear voices coming from his bedroom. He skips steps on the way up the stairs and looks on in confusion once at the top.

"Hehehe you really aren't as good as you let on, Mr. Detective Prince."

"Please, I won the last round and I've never even played this before."

Futaba and Akechi are hunched over foldable chairs, playing a fighting game on his recycled television. Ren circles around them just in time to watch Futaba enact a series of combos that ends with a critical hit. The damage sends Akechi's character to 0 health. He sits back in the chair with a huff.

"Yes! That's 2-1." Futaba exclaims. She stands up to stretch. "You came at the perfect time, Ren."

Ren is still incredulous to even see them together. "Nice job."

Akechi crosses his legs. "Well, considering this is my first time playing, it's hardly an accomplishment."

"Yeah, yeah. All this winning is exhausting, think it's time for a break," Futaba yawns and gives a small wave to indicate her departure.

Once she is downstairs, Ren smugly inquires, "When did you two start hanging out?"

Akechi gives him an indifferent shrug. "She happened to be here earlier."

He grins and then hides his amusement, sitting in the now-empty chair. The chirpy music from the "winner" screen still plays in the background.

Ren half expects Akechi to ask again about how his exams went, but when he doesn't, he decides to (suppress that ache) bring something else up: "I have some time right now. I was thinking you might want some things out of your apartment. We could go get them?"

"I think studying would be a better usage of your time."

"I could use the break."

Akechi rolls his eyes. "This idea involves both going out in public _and _a location that's likely under heavy surveillance."

"There's nothing that you need out of there?"

There unfortunately are some things he needs, including a set of folders that contain his personal documents and an emergency cash fund. He's been debating how to go about obtaining them for a couple days.

"There are a few things."

Ren ponders for a moment. "If you're worried about being recognized, I could go grab them. Or we could get Ann to—"

"No. I don't need strangers poking around my apartment."

_"Strangers" is a bit harsh. _"We can be cautious about it. I walked around a lot when I was supposed to be hiding from the cops."

"That's not reassuring." Akechi looks at him like he's stupid.

"I'm saying I know all the back ways to places. First sign that things are off, we'll head back or dive into Mementos if we have to. And I'll check out the place before we head in."

_Yes, I know all the back ways too._

"Fine, we do this quickly and quietly. I'll need to borrow a jacket or something again."

* * *

Cold weather provides a great opportunity for disguises. Akechi's hair is tucked into a beanie that's covered by a big hood, the bottom of his face is hidden against a scarf, and the rest is masked by Ren's glasses—Akechi _knew _they were fake and had no problem declaring so after Ren put them on his face.

Rainy cold weather gets all of the aforementioned disguise _plus_ the addition of a big umbrella, which can be inconspicuously tilted in any direction to hide one's identity. The weather is certainly playing into their favor.

The pair set off from the café. They plan to take the subway as minimal a distance as required and walk the rest. They get lucky after the first stop to grab a seat situated in the corner and Akechi keeps his head low.

"I really hope Shido is okay. He must've worked himself too hard during the campaign," a woman says.

"I'm sure he'll bounce back. I haven't seen such passion and dedication from a candidate in years," a man responds.

"Yeah, we certainly need that kind of leadership right now."

Ren watches the couple talking from the corner of his eye. They go on and on about Shido's policies and how they'll turn Japan around. He would imagine that Akechi is seething in his seat, but a quick glance shows he's concentrated on the ground.

A few stops later, they exit the subway. They weave through the alleyways between major avenues and try to avoid eye contact with other pedestrians.

As they walk, Ren notices the sheer number of Shido's posters hanging in the shop windows. His campaign slogans are on the subway carts, his face is plastered on billboards; it's as if no one is reacting to the confession. He might even say that the support for Shido appears _stronger _than before.

They finally come to a stop once the apartment building is in sight. Akechi leans in close to Ren, their jackets touching, to whisper, "Maybe we should turn around. The police know your face."

"Don't worry, I'm good at blending in. Stay here, I'll be right back."

Akechi hangs under a shop awning and watches him take off with the umbrella. His anxiety is mounting; every car that stalls too much in passing and every person that glances at him is a potential threat.

Ren circles the block the apartment is on. There aren't any people hanging out in cars or vehicles with blacked-out windows. He can't dismiss the idea that stationary cameras could be set up somewhere or that people aren't watching from the surroundings.

He stops to look at the lobby of the building, where a woman sits at a desk. It's entirely possible random staff are being paid to keep watch. One person exits the front doors, but she doesn't raise her head. Maybe she has cameras visible on the computer.

There's no way to know for sure that they aren't under surveillance, but his gut feeling says that it's okay to proceed.

Ren returns with the report that nothing is obviously suspicious. They proceed tensely through the front entrance, where Akechi recognizes the lady at the desk. He's made small talk with her often and she would certainly recognize him, but her presence in itself isn't alarming. He hides his face, but she doesn't look up either way.

They opt to take the stairs up several flights instead of the elevator, shedding the heavy, wet jackets once out of sight. In the hallway off the landing, Akechi restlessly checks the walls and corners for cameras. He doesn't notice anything out of place. They walk a couple doors down until they stand in front of his apartment.

Akechi turns the key in the lock and pauses, suddenly not so sure about showing the place to Ren. He turns to put his back to the door.

"Actually, I can go in by myself. It'll be quicker that way and you can watch the door." He tries to make it sound nonchalant, logical.

One blank face meets another. Ren doesn't react, just stares in a way that makes Akechi feel scrutinized. How many of their battles go on mentally, between stretches of silence?

Akechi is gripping at the jacket in his arms. He's taller than Ren by a bit but feels very small under his gaze right now. He's willing Ren to back off, to take the hint. The apartment is his stomping ground and he'd rather let it live and die in solitude. It's a private affair, a disaster. He realizes that once the door opens, there are no looks left to put on.

In an ideal world, he'd like to have the whole place cleaned and scraped of anything unholy and unbecoming before letting Ren in. He catches himself not hurt by the idea, but actively _worried _over what Ren thinks of him for maybe the first time. Why should he care what the attic trash thinks?

There's no debating that Akechi revels in the act of being a show-off and the adoration that ensues, so it would follow that he has concerns over the presentability of his apartment, but it's different somehow, like there's more on the line. Ren has already seen every part of his ugly soul and it would be nice to have one positive remaining; the last scrap of imagination that Ren can hang onto about him.

"I'm not going to judge you, if that's what you're worried about," Ren says, coolly.

Akechi reveals the slightest expression of alarm. _Is he a mind-reader now?_

In the next moment that Akechi plans to deliver a very sound and not at all desperate rebuttal, Ren leans forward. His hand reaches past Akechi for the doorknob, brushing against his side in the motion. It shoots uncomfortable and thrilling electricity through his body and, in the few seconds it all takes to transpire, his mind draws a blank on the entirety of the Japanese language. He impulsively, breathlessly steps to the side to let Ren by, sheepishly following once his head starts functioning again.

Akechi isn't one for being a neat freak at home, but the apartment is dilapidated, and not because it's old. It's a simple studio apartment, clearly renovated recently by the sleekness of the walls and appliances, but even he can acknowledge that to call it a wreck may be an understatement. He mentally rationalizes that he wasn't in the best state following certain events.

There's the pungent smell from old takeout lingering in the air, bags and food containers littering the space. His school uniform and coats are hung neatly in a rather barren closet, while the rest of his clothes are strewn haphazardly across the floor and hanging off chairs. The desk is piled high with folders and papers, stacks of books are on the floor, surfaces are covered in dust, the sheets are shoved into a mass at the end of the bed. There's just enough space carved out on the ground to move easily between the bed and the desk and not much else.

Ren first focuses on the few posters hanging on the wall and the various colors of clothes he's never seen Akechi wear. Then he takes in the mess, which is nice in a way because Akechi is so much more than a perfect, celebrity imitation. Every time he cracks and lets loose another part of his inner world, Ren finds himself captivated.

He's smiling to himself. How do you tell someone that you love all the things they're afraid to show? Maybe you just say it. Maybe you _don't_ just say it to Akechi though. He wonders how he'd receive a comment like that.

Akechi urgently steps forward to a coffee table and grabs a can of air freshener. He promptly walks around the room spraying it, tiny particles of lavender sprinkling down. Meanwhile, Ren moves on to search the cupboards for a garbage bag.

"I'll clean up while you gather your things," Ren announces after Akechi has placed the can back down.

"I don't need you to clean up for me."

He tosses a frozen meal into the bag. "Too late."

Akechi suppresses the urge to bite back a rude comment. _He's in the room, what's done is done. Focus on what you need._

He opens a dresser drawer with a small safe in it, quickly performing the combo. The money is split between the safe and a couple other hiding spots in the room. He grabs his gym bag and dumps the contents onto the floor to throw the cash in.

Akechi walks about the room, grabbing his hidden money. He unlocks the bottom drawer of his desk to remove some textbooks, personal folders hiding underneath. He stands up and looks around for what else he might need. The briefcase contains his police badges and access codes, those may come in handy.

"It's a nice apartment," Ren says. There are already two full trash bags piled in the kitchen corner.

Akechi breezes past him to the bathroom. "Spare me the pleasantries."

He starts shoving random products from the overcrowded bathroom sink into the bag, then doubles back to the wardrobe. The coats are folded in half and placed. He also grabs some random articles from a chair.

"I'm done, let's go." Akechi is pulling the borrowed jacket back on. He looks at the partially tidied space a little mournfully and slings the bag over his shoulder.

When he's locking the door, the sound of deep voices echo in the nearby stairwell. People are ascending the staircase and Akechi wonders how fast someone could react to their presence. He panics, grabbing Ren's coat sleeve and pulling him in the opposite direction. "This way."

They hurriedly weave through the hallways to the back of the building, where another staircase is located. They rush down the stairs to the bottom exit, where Ren steps outside first for surveillance. When everything is clear, he tells Akechi to follow. They start walking quickly in the direction they originally came from.

"Do you think that was them?"

"I don't know, but I'm not sticking around to fucking find out," Akechi pants. He looks rattled, so Ren remains quiet.

Part way to the train, the rain starts to downpour. It's the same deafening noise from the morning, where you have to practically yell to be heard over the splattering. Akechi isn't sure if it's the noise and the water droplets on his lenses that are making him dizzy, or something else.

On the subway, Akechi is shivering in his seat. There's a looming sensation, coursing through his nerves, that something is _very wrong_. His chest is hurting, and his mind can't seem to focus on a singular thought.

He's staring at the ground because he swears if he looks up, he'll see the abyss that is Mementos. He's indefensible like this. The announcer says the name of the next station and he twitches in his seat.

"We're getting off at the next stop," Akechi abruptly whispers.

"Wha—Okay."

When the train dings for the next platform, they step into the station. At the sudden onslaught of people, Akechi stops walking, causing someone to bump into him. He stumbles, unable to catch his bearings. The sounds around him are slush. Ren turns to see him disoriented, looking at nothing.

People are beginning to stare. Ren walks up to put an arm around his shoulder and guide him toward a corner. He's shaking and winded.

"Akechi, give me the bag."

He doesn't even seem to notice as he lets the bag slip off his shoulder and onto Ren's arm.

"Please get me out of here," he says breathily.

"Alright, just walk with me. I've got you."

Ren places his arm back around Akechi's shoulder to direct him toward the exit. They have to fumble a little to get his subway card out at the exit gate, but the escalator isn't too far beyond that. He keeps Akechi within arm's reach till they're at the top, and then guides him to another corner. The rain is lighter in this section of town.

Akechi leans back against the wall of the building and stares off to the side. Ren drops the umbrella to the ground to place his hands on Akechi's arms.

"Hey, Akechi, we're outside now." He doesn't react to it.

"Hey. Akechi, can you look at me please? Can you try to focus on something? I'm right in front of you, everything is okay."

Akechi lifts his eyes to his face. "Ren," he says almost inaudibly. His mouth and the sound are out of sync.

"Uh huh, it's Ren." He's rubbing his gloves up and down Akechi's arms to try and warm him up. "Look, I'm right here, I'm right here with you. Everything is okay. You're not in any danger."

Akechi nods a little and his eyes start to stray again.

"Hey, keep focusing on me. I'm here with you. We're outside, I promise everything is okay. Keep looking at me. Try to breathe deeper." Akechi tries to concentrate on the center of his face.

Ren continues with a slew of phrases until Akechi's breathing starts to slow down. He closes his eyes. Ren slows the motion of his hands, watching the other with worry.

When Akechi is finally back to breathing normally, he opens his eyes and lifts both arms up abruptly to push Ren's hands off of him. "You can stop doing that now," he says as he looks off to the side.

Ren steps back from him. He leans down to pick up the umbrella, while Akechi starts walking again. He jogs to catch up.

"Are you alright?"

"I had a moment, let's not dwell on it."

And he flips the switch, just like that. Ren knows that he's deflecting, but it still stings.

They don't speak the rest of the long walk home. Akechi is stuck in his head and Ren trails slightly behind him. The morning exists in some distant reality.

That glimmer of enjoyment Akechi felt earlier lives within 4 specific walls and everything outside of it is vile. It's only a matter of time before he poisons that refuge too and is left with nothing again.

It's laughable—it always is—how a few, lucky moments leave Akechi forgetful of who he is or what place he has in this world. There is an endless cycle of daring to be hopeful, only to be reprimanded for doing so. "_What goes up," right?_

Emotions that had evaded Akechi throughout the beginning of the day come flooding miserably back through the walk's visuals. He sees street corners he's traded information, bakeries he's posed for social media pictures in front of, the subway platforms where he's caused accidents, businesses he's sickeningly associated with, alleys he's ducked into when receiving a call from "work," and every spot that someone has had a mental shutdown, highlighted horrifically on the news. The whole city hemorrhages with his blood and even the most torrential of storms won't wash it clean.

The blood is ingrained in the cement, overflowing the porousness to surge down the streets and into the sewers and back out the faucets. It has become so much a part of Tokyo that nobody even feels its gore sticking to their shoes, sanguine and gummy. It makes him want to hurl.

Tokyo, the revered and beautiful city, is red: every street is a reminder.

* * *

Back at the café, Ren goes to study. He asks Akechi a few questions intermittently and receives responses, but they lack the same luster as the ones from the morning.

Eventually, Akechi falls asleep. Ren stays up late cramming, spending half of it worried over how to help.

* * *

_White light outlines an opened door, shining and straining against black surroundings._

_"Shall we venture on?" Crow asks._

_He is standing at the top of a nonfunctional escalator. It descends into shadow, where the light inevitably becomes swallowed. Only the first few steps are visible._

_The rest of the Phantom Thieves are behind him, crowded just before the entrance. There are doors in Mementos, but they don't look like this._

_"I can't get a reading on what's below," Oracle says._

_"Scared of a little darkness?" he teases._

_No matter. The group will blindly follow his lead because he is brave and righteous. Mementos is his territory—even if they don't know that—and he isn't afraid of its contents._

_Joker hides in the back like a scared cat. He's half the leader Crow would be._ _It's a shame, really, that it'll all fall apart in his hands. And in the meantime, Crow gets to put on a dazzling show. _Be struck by wonder. Be _awed_ by my conviction to justice, unwavering in the sight of danger.

_Crow is much stronger than them, he could kill them right now if he wanted to, but prey tastes better when it's quivering and weak, expended. It's all coming together so nicely. Perhaps he's having fun._

_He takes a few valiant steps down as a show of bravado, but on the last motion his foot hooks on something. He manages to catch himself from tripping by grabbing onto the railing. On the stair beneath him is something like a root, barely discernible in the darkness._

"_Maybe it's better we come back when we're fully rested," Fox sighs._

_Crow looks back up at them, confused. No crude comment from Skull about his lack of balance? Then there's a low growl that echoes somewhere below. It's deep and it hums, drawing his attention back to the blanket of shadow._

"_I think that's a good call," Queen supplies. _They're acting like they didn't even hear it.

_The Thieves defeatedly start to turn around. "Wait, guys?" Crow calls out. They don't respond._

_The growl echoes in his ears again, close enough to make him jump, __**"They can't hear you."**__ Crows snaps his head to the left and there's nothing._

_Then it's in his right ear, __**"They don't even know you exist."**_

_He snaps his head back in the other direction and frantically looks around to find nothing. The grating sound of concrete reverts his attention back to the doorway: Noir is pulling it closed._

"_Wait!" Crow starts to run up the escalator and something grabs his ankle, sending him slamming against the top step. He tries to shake off the daze, kicking at whatever has taken hold of his leg._

"_Noir!" He glances down at the sensation seizing his other leg. Both of them are being encased in roots that glow a very dull shade of red. He can't kick them off. Crow reaches for the sword or the gun and they aren't at his belt._

"_**Did you really think they were impressed by you?" **__The voice booms all around him._

"_Shut up!" Crow screams. His gloves are frantically scraping against the ground, trying to take hold of something. He latches onto the railings of the escalator in an attempt to pull himself forward. He tries to call for his personas and neither answer. The roots are at his waist._

"_**Did you really think you deserved friends?" **__It's so loud it rattles his brain._

_He's gasping and desperately pulling himself forward with all his strength. Just beyond Noir, he can see Joker looking back into the stairwell. "Joker!"_

_Joker's eyes slide down in his direction. It looks like for a moment maybe he sees, but maybe he's just looking right through him because in the next second he turns with a whirl of his coat._

"_No, Ren! Agh!" He yells as the roots wrap around his arms, pulling him down with more force. "Ren!"_

_He can see Joker walking away, and the last glimpse of Noir in the slit of light, as the door slams closed. He loses his grip on the railings._


End file.
